


looking for it (finding heaven)

by ittlebitz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha!Peter, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Dom!Derek, Dom/Sub AU, Facials, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Scent Marking, Shower Sex, Spanking, Subspace, sub!Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ittlebitz/pseuds/ittlebitz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows from birth if they are a Dom or a sub. Markers in the blood show which one is going to be, and when maturity is reached, a tattoo is put on the left hand that displays which you are and indicates readiness for a claim. </p><p>Dominant Derek Hale is determined not to take on a submissive after a deadly mistake in his past. But the Alpha, his uncle Peter, has other ideas. He arranges for Derek to claim Stiles Stilinski, much to Derek's initial dismay. But as soon as he sets eyes on the sassy submissive, all his Dominant urges flare to life and his wolf demands that he claim what belongs to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [idareu2bme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idareu2bme/gifts).



> This all started because Sam is ~~a dirty enabler~~ my bestie and she tagged me in [this](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com/post/48104503694/ok-ok-ok-what-about-a-dom-sub-universe-h-c-fic) post, then combined it with puppy dog eyes on the messenger, and now this fic is born.
> 
> I have been threatening to write a Sterek fic for some time now, so I guess she got tired of my flipflopping and decided to issue a challenge she knew I couldn't resist. I hope everyone enjoys my first effort at writing Teen Wolf!
> 
> Many thanks to [Sies](http://anderson--hummel.tumblr.com) for being an incredible beta and to [Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com%22) for tolerating all my flails and ideas cluttering up her ask!
> 
> Fic name from the song by Jann Arden

* * *

"But I already told you, I don't want one!"

Derek Hale angrily followed his uncle, Peter Hale, as he strode briskly into his office. He could practically hear the eye roll as Peter heaved out a long-suffering sigh. Peter walked over to his desk and sat in the plush high back chair, leaning back to eye Derek as he moved to stand stiffly in front of him. Derek's jaw was tense and his hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides. He knew his eyes glowed a faint blue as testimony to his agitated state, and that his expression was most likely mutinous. Peter sighed again, then fixed his steady gaze on Derek, allowing a brief tinge of red to enter his eyes.

"Derek, we've been over this multiple times and I'm done explaining. It's time you put the past to rest and took on a sub. You're a Hale, after all. You carry the markers of dominance and are part of a long and prestigious line. It's what is expected of you. I've been extremely lenient with you, but it's past time for you to step up and become a proper Dom. A submissive will bring out your natural dominance, will anchor your wolf and make you stronger. As the next Alpha, Laura is training to take over the family business when I retire, but you are expected to be on the Board as her Beta, there to help her and take charge should it for some reason become necessary. Now that you're back from New York, I can no longer in good conscience allow you to founder along aimlessly. What would your mother say to me? In fact, what would she say to you?" Peter questioned him, knowing exactly which buttons to hit to get to his point across.

Derek bowed his head and closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. "She would expect me to do my duty," he ground out.

As loathe as Derek was to admit it, Peter was right. His mother would have been exceedingly disappointed that he hadn't claimed a proper sub by now. Like her, he was a born wolf and a Dominant. Markers in the blood were checked at birth in order to determine whether a child was a Dominant or a submissive. The natural instincts were latent until the teenage years when maturity kick-started them and the urges began to manifest. At that time, they received their tattoo mark of something symbolic to them on their left hand that indicated they were able to enter into a claim. A special ink was used that reacted to the blood markers to take on the signifying color; black for submissives and red for Dominants.

Children were raised with the expectation that they would enter their first claim after being granted their tattoo. Being in a claim would stabilize them during the crucial growth period where hormones ran rampant. The Dominant would have an outlet for the powerful urges of control and possessiveness, and the submissive would get the domination and protection they craved and needed. In the case of the large werewolf population, the wolf prowled especially close to the surface during this time as well, eager to dominate or submit. It was especially crucial to them to be in a claim so as to not be overwhelmed completely.

Most teenage couples were joined in provisional claims; short-term claims that were easily terminated but with the option to make it permanent if both parties desired. Once they reached the majority age of eighteen, Dominants and submissives were free to experiment as much as they pleased, both in and out of claims, though a claim was both preferred and encouraged. But Derek's mother, Talia, had claimed his father, Donovan, at the age of seventeen, and they had been extremely happy together. They had actually developed the Mate Bond, where the inner wolf chose its life mate, a rare occurrence in such an early claim. As soon as they were legally able, they made their claim permanent, rather than parting ways later to join with another.

It was practically unheard of for a Dominant Derek's age to not have claimed a permanent submissive, or to at least be in a provisional claim. While hardly ancient at 24, most Dominants of similar age were settling down and collaring their submissive.

Derek sighed inwardly. More than anything, he wanted a relationship like his parents had. One filled with the deep love and trust between a Dominant and their chosen submissive. A Mate Bond. But he knew he didn't deserve it. If it weren't for his own blind stupidity, his mother would be here now, would have been there to guide him through all this. Peter's voice cut into his deep reverie and Derek looked up, blinking to make himself focus on his uncle.

"I'm glad you see it my way," Peter rumbled with satisfaction. "I've taken the liberty of choosing a sub for you, a student from the Academy. One of our best academically, top of the submissive class. I believe you'll find it to be a good match for you."

Derek tensed and fought back a growl. "On top of being forced to take on a sub I don't want, I don't even get to choose my own?"

Peter shrugged nonchalantly, looking almost bored. "To be frank, I didn't trust you to do so. I am of the belief that you would agree to this just to get me off your back, then drag your feet as you have continually done in the past. You've turned down easily half a dozen acceptable subs over the last year alone, Derek. And don't for a minute think I don't know about those clubs you've been partaking of where any sub will allow you to dominate them however you want so long as the price is right. It's a proven fact that those places help take the edge off your dominance so you can keep your head clear but are a poor substitute to having your own claimed submissive."

Derek looked away and felt his cheeks heat as he flushed under his uncle's cool scrutiny. He had thought he was being discreet in the Sub Clubs, but he should have known Peter was aware of his dealings there. The Alpha had eyes and ears everywhere, after all. Even in New York. He tried again, "Uncle, I swear I'll do this, I'll select a submissive to claim. Just let me choose my own."

Peter shook his head. "I'm afraid the matter is quite settled, Derek. The sub I've chosen for you will make you the powerful Dominant you've always been meant to be." His eyes grew colder. "And no offense, but the last time you selected your own... _submissive_ , it ended up being a disaster, didn't it?"

Derek glared at his uncle stonily, careful not to give away the grief, humiliation and guilt flooding him. Disaster might be the understatement of the century. Derek knew that, but having Peter throw it in his face was painfully demeaning. "I wouldn't make that mistake again."

"Of course you wouldn't," Peter agreed coolly, "but that fact of the matter is I won't let you. I believe you'll be rather pleased with my selection."

Derek eyed his uncle warily; he knew him far too well to believe this was just a matter of selecting a submissive. "How do _you_ know I'll be pleased? There's something more to this. What's in it for you?" he asked, voice laced with suspicion.

To his surprise, Peter laughed, actually sounding pleased. "There's the Hale in you. I may begin to have new hope for you after all. Very well. The submissive I have arranged for you to take is the only child of the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. It's an excellent match, beneficial to all. You will get a submissive worthy of belonging to a Hale, and I will have an extremely valuable connection to the Sheriff himself. Such an alliance can only be an advantage, especially in regards to hunters." His blue eyes hardened to an icy steel. "The Argents in particular, as you well know. They have kept a relatively low profile after the scandal, but I don't trust them one bit."

Derek growled low in the back of his throat, though he wasn't sure if it was in response to Peter's reasoning or mention of the Argents. He opted to ignore the pointed reference to the hunters and concentrate on the arranged claim. "That's what this is about? You're making me take a submissive so you can have an in with the Sheriff? And he _agreed_ to this whole crazy scheme? You've got to be kidding me!" he fumed, finding himself feeling outraged on not only on his behalf, but that of the mystery submissive as well. "No, I don't want to. Let Laura take on the sheriff's kid. Or you do it, I don't care."

Peter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing in annoyance as his irritation increased. "Laura is perfectly happy with Boyd, Derek, and you know that," he said slowly, enunciating as if Derek were having trouble understanding basic English. "She's planning on collaring him soon and she doesn't want a secondary submissive. And I already have Erica and Isaac; I don't want or need a third submissive and would only take on another in very extreme circumstances. Quite frankly, I'm surprised at you. This is truly an excellent opportunity. You are getting a rare chance that many Doms would love to have. Getting a highly connected submissive that is well trained, an honor student at the Academy, and perfectly ripe for you to teach exactly how to serve and please you."

"But I still don't-" Derek began to argue, then flinched as his uncle's temper snapped.

" _ENOUGH!_ " snarled Peter, his eyes flashing full red and his fangs elongating, voice taking on the deep timbre of the Alpha voice. "The matter is settled and you'll do as you're told, Derek. And that's the Alpha telling you that."

Derek grudgingly backed down. He knew that meant the decision was final, coming from Peter as the Alpha and not as his uncle. Dom or not, Peter would brook no more opposition from him, at least not without harsh consequences. He reluctantly ducked his head and tilted it to the side slightly to bare his neck as he attempted to appease his uncle with the show of respect.

Peter sighed aloud as he reverted back to human form and stood up, walking around his ornate desk. "Now, Derek, let's not quarrel. You and Laura are all I have left and whether you believe it or not, I only want what's best for you. Come along and see the submissive I've selected for you."

The hallway outside Peter's office led to another hallway where a large two way mirror gave access to view the common area for the submissive students to gather and mingle with the Dominant ones under close supervision. The Hale Academy for Dominants and Submissives was a prestigious and highly accredited private school for parents to enroll their children. Students were thoroughly trained in the ways that would be required of them in their future in a safe and controlled environment that ensured no Dominant got carried away and acted out of bounds and no submissive was taken advantage of. Submissives were taught the ways to show proper submission and to please the Dominant that would one day claim them permanently. Dominants were taught things such as proper dominance and aftercare techniques with strict attention to building respect and trust in their claim. They were all educated in the various aspects of their future claims, including such things as contracts, hard and soft limits, safewords and using them correctly, awards and punishments, the significance of a permanent claim, and collaring of the submissive.

To abuse a submissive was anathema to society. They were to be cared for, coddled, pampered and punished, and treated with the utmost affection and respect. A Dom that mistreated a submissive would be shunned and ostracized, unable to claim a submissive since none would have them after such information became public knowledge. Only the very basest and lowest of Sub Clubs would even consider allowing such a Dom entry, and even then they would pay dearly for the necessity of acting on the dominant urges coursing through them.

Derek and Peter looked through the mirror at the large gathering of students inside, able to observe without being seen themselves. Peter scanned the crowd for a moment, lips pursed in concentration before smiling as he found who he was looking for.

"Ah, yes. There, at the table in the center of the room. Sitting between the lovely redhead, Lydia Martin, and my Erica," Peter said, motioning with his head.

Derek looked toward the mentioned area, looking for the familiar golden curls of his uncle's female submissive, whom he had met recently when he returned to Beacon Hills. When he found her and saw who Peter was referring to, it took all of his self control not to visibly startle.

"You got me a boy submissive?" he asked in disbelief, turning to stare at Peter, who looked wordlessly back at him, a single, unimpressed eyebrow raised in answer. He remembered in a wave of hot humiliation that Peter knew he had been going to the Sub Clubs and obviously knew the most minute of details all the way down to his choice of submissive. He clenched his jaw and turned back to the window silently to look again at the boy Peter had arranged for him.

The boy was laughing at something another dark haired boy sitting at the same table was saying. His face was open and delighted, and even from a distance Derek could see his warm brown eyes were framed with luscious lashes. He had a lush mouth that bordered on obscene; perfect pink lips that could no doubt pout and beg prettily or wrap around a cock in sinful fashion. His hair was short but the perfect length for tangling hands in and tugging on. The hands he gestured wildly with as he spoke were imminently capable and strong looking with long, graceful fingers. He had a lean build, solid and muscular, but not overly so. He was wretchedly, stupidly perfect.

Derek hated him.

"Come along, then," said Peter as he walked to the administrator's entrance to the common area. He opened the door and stepped into the crowded room, nodding in acknowledgement of a greeting from one of the teachers closely chaperoning the gathered teenagers. Once Derek had joined him, Peter sauntered to the table he had indicated to Derek. Erica noticed them first and gave Peter a devastating smile as she slid from her seat to drop to her knees and tilt her head to one side, baring her throat in obeisance.

"Alpha," she cooed breathily, eyes fluttering shut as Peter reached out to stroke her curls fondly before settling his hand on her neck. "Isaac went to the library. He wanted to use free time to research more for his project."

"Thank you, my darling. Such a good girl, and kneeling so prettily for me." Peter smiled at her as she nuzzled into his hand. He then raised his eyes to the rest of the teenagers at the table.

The dark haired submissive boy grinned mischievously up at them. "O, Alpha, my Alpha!" he greeted cheekily before dropping his gaze back down to the table. The other boy sitting with them glanced quickly at him in stunned surprise. Derek held his breath for a moment as well, wondering both how Peter would react to such an irreverent salutation from a submissive and what he could possibly be thinking, saying this was the ideal submissive for _him_. To his surprise, Peter chuckled at the same moment the red haired girl sitting next to the boy placed her left hand firmly on the back of his neck.

"Manners, Stiles!" she admonished in exasperation, though her tone was a fond one. She looked up and met Peter's eye, nodding once. "Headmaster."

Peter returned her nod pleasantly. "Miss Martin." He turned to Derek. "This is Lydia Martin. Top of her class and one of the most promising Dommes we have ever seen at Hale Academy. She already has not one but two Submissives in her care and they are thriving. We couldn't be more pleased." He turned back to the table. "My nephew, Dom Derek Hale, back from New York."

Derek nodded coolly to the stunning girl who was preening under the high praise. For some reason he couldn't name, he felt his hackles rising that her red tattooed hand remained on the boy's— _his boy's_ —neck. That she was no longer correcting him and was now rubbing his neck absently with a delicately manicured thumb made it even more irritating, especially when his eyes fluttered shut in obvious appreciation of being petted. Having reprimanded him, she had no reason to keep touching him since he didn't belong to her. None of Derek's feelings of possessiveness were making sense to him in the slightest, seeing as they weren't even in a claim yet. The boy didn't even know he was in the presence of his Dom, which didn't seem to deter Derek's dominant instincts in the slightest. He suddenly very much wanted this boy on his knees in front of him, kneeling in perfect submission, ready and eager to tend to the needs and commands of his Dom. His eyes flickered down to the black tattoo on the boy's left hand and he found himself wanting to take that hand in his own to look at it more closely, find out what it was and what made it significant. Then maybe strip him down and inspect every inch of him, since he now belonged to Derek.

God damn it.

"As you see," Peter continued, seemingly unaware of Derek's inner turmoil, "she also is invaluable in keeping her friends under control when needed. Isn't that correct, Mr. Stilinski?"

The boy grinned again, still looking down respectfully. "Yes, Sir," he said, sounding cheerfully unrepentant.

Peter gave Derek a smirk. "The young scamp Miss Martin is keeping in check is Stiles Stilinski. A gifted Submissive, though he may not always act it."

"What kind of a name is Stiles?" Derek blurted out without meaning to.

The boy's eyes flew up to his for a brief moment before quickly returning down. He tensed noticeably and, much to Derek's displeasure, Lydia's soothing motions on his neck quickly became more purposeful. "It's my name. What I want to be called." Lydia made a small noise of admonition. "Sir," he quickly added.

Peter stepped in smoothly. "His father has informed us that this is the name of preference, Derek," he interjected, his gaze warning Derek not to push at the moment.

Of course he was right, Derek thought irritably. All these details would be known to him soon enough when they met with Stiles and his father to begin the claim. Derek fidgeted slightly where he stood. It had been a long time since he had last been to a Sub Club and his dominant instincts were close to going haywire. His wolf stirred restlessly just under the surface of his skin, as if it already knew he was so close to what was his, even though Stiles obviously had no idea. He couldn't help taking a deep inconspicuous breath, although he knew he wouldn't be able to pick Stiles' scent out of the large crowd.

Not yet, anyway.

Peter gave him a shrewd smirk as he went back to introductions. "The quiet lad on the other side of Miss Martin is Danny Mahealani, one of her submissives." He glanced around the room and turned back to the table. "But you appear to be missing some of your normal group. Where is Mr. Whittemore? And Mr. McCall?"

"Jackson is meeting with Dom Finstock. He's been named captain of the submissive's lacrosse team," Lydia replied. From the pride obvious in her voice, Derek guessed that Jackson must be her second submissive.

"And Scott is with his Domme. I think she's punishing him for getting in trouble in Dom Harris' class," mumbled Stiles mournfully. "I guess him putting us in corner time wasn't enough punishment."

"Now, Stiles, Allison is a good Domme. She loves Scott. That's why she corrects him when he does wrong," stated Lydia matter of factly. "She wants him to be the best he can be and he wants to please her. If she didn't care she wouldn't bother, and then Scott would suffer. And I'm sure your father will deal with you as he sees fit when you get home." She squeezed Stiles' neck comfortingly when he winced and groaned softly.

The bare whisper of sound made the hairs on Derek's neck stand up, putting him even more on edge. He nearly growled, both at the notion that any Dom other than himself would be punishing his submissive, father or not, and the fact that Lydia was _still touching his boy._

Peter slanted him a warning look. "Yes, well, we must be on our way. On your feet, pet," Peter said to Erica, stepping back as she gracefully rose from her kneeling position. He cupped her face for a brief moment, brushing a thumb along her cheekbone affectionately before indicating that she return to her seat. As she resumed her place next to Stiles, Peter addressed him. "And I do believe we will actually have the pleasure of your company this evening, Mr. Stilinski, as we will be coming to your home to meet with your father for a business dinner. Do try to be on your best behavior." With that, he turned to leave. Derek gave Stiles one last glance before turning to follow him.

They returned to Peter's office in silence. When they reached the door, Derek met his uncle's knowing grin.

"Well?" Peter asked, as if there were actually any question.

 _Smug bastard_ , Derek thought irately. He nodded his head once. "I'll take him."

"Excellent," chuckled Peter.

* * *

Back in the common room, Danny breathed out on a quick exhale. " _That_ was strange. Why would the Headmaster himself come here to talk to us? What do you think it was about, Mistress?"

Lydia pursed her lips thoughtfully as she idly stroked the leather cuff Danny wore on his wrist that indicated he was in a claim. It was identical to the cuff Jackson wore and matched the cuff she wore on her own wrist. "I don't really know. I suppose he's showing the prodigal nephew around now that he's finally returned. Guess he finally decided to heed the call of duty."

Stiles glanced at her curiously. "Returned from where?"

"You don't remember? It was a huge scandal a few years ago." Lydia frowned as she tried to remember all the details. "Something about Derek and an older woman he was involved with, but it wasn't a claim since he hadn't reached tattooing yet." She nodded at the scandalized gasps from the submissives around her.

Claims before tattooing occurred were forbidden, and any sexual involvement prior to it was highly taboo. Despite knowing from birth what one would be when they grew up, maturity had to be reached before legally entering into a claim.

"Anyway," Lydia continued as she casually tossed her hair over her shoulder, "I don't remember all the details exactly, except the crazy bitch burned down his house. It turned out she was some sort of extremist hunter that hated werewolves. Killed most of his family, including his parents. He and his older sister Laura were the only survivors other than the Headmaster, since they weren't home at the time." She frowned again. "There was something more to it, but I can't put my finger on it right now. Derek and Laura went to New York for a time, but Laura came back months ago. Derek just now finally decided to make an appearance."

"That freakin' sucks about his family," Stiles said, feeling a sudden sense of empathy with the mysterious Derek Hale. "Losing my mom was bad enough. If I had lost both my parents I don't know what I would have done.

"The Alpha's submissive, his mate, was killed, too," chimed in Erica. "He doesn't talk about her much, but she was pregnant when it happened. Isaac and I know better than to bring it up."

"Doesn't that bother you at all?" asked Stiles doubtfully, gesturing with one hand. "Because to tell you the truth, I don't know if I could really submit to a Dom that loved someone else. I'd be worried I was always being compared unfavorably to someone who was always better. That I was competing with a ghost. I mean, I guess I would do what I had to, to honor my part of the claim, if I would even agree to it in the first place. I think at the very least it would be really hard getting to subspace. How could you trust that Dom to have your best interests at heart?"

Erica smiled at him. "The Alpha is very good to us; I couldn't ask for better. My wolf likes that my Dom is so strong and such a good provider. My parents were grateful when he was willing to claim me and give me the bite to cure my epilepsy and give me the chance to truly live. And he did the same for Isaac when it turned out he was being mistreated by his father. The Alpha made us better, gives us the best of care. He's firm but fair, and really affectionate with us. Like, he honestly denies us nothing, and money is never an object to him. You should see our playroom. And it doesn't hurt that he's incredibly handsome, either." Her smile turned slightly wicked. "When I'm a really good girl and he's pleased with me, he sometimes lets me play with Isaac."

Danny's eyes widened and Stiles snorted in disbelief. "What, he actually lets you _dominate_ his other submissive? Isn't that sort of weird?"

"I wouldn't call it dominating, really. I'm not a Dom. But he tells me what to do and I do it. I guess kind of like a director for a movie. It's really fun for me and Isaac likes it, too. I think the Alpha sometimes enjoys watching us play together as much as he enjoys playing with us himself," Erica grinned impishly as she pulled an apple out of her tote bag. She bit into it, somehow making the simple act look seductive.

"Yes, I imagine he would," hummed Lydia thoughtfully as she looked at Danny's suddenly pink cheeks. She lovingly ran her fingers through his hair and smiled when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Reaching down, she traced a finger lightly over the black shell tattoo that adorned his left hand.

"Does Headmaster make you call him Alpha at home? 'Cause I'll be honest, I don't mind Sir or something similar, but I don't know if I could scene with my Dom and call him that," Stiles remarked, then ducked his head as Lydia sighed and touched his neck again.

"That's really none of your business, Stiles," she reprimanded softly. "What a Dominant and their submissive agree on for their private time is between them."

"Sorry, Lyds," Stiles apologized, then winced when she pressed his neck a bit more firmly to remind him where they were. "I mean, Miss Lydia."

"Good boy," Lydia praised him, stroking his neck affectionately. "You know I don't mind you calling me Lyds at home, but at school you need to remember to address me formally."

Stiles and Lydia had been close friends since they were children. Their parents had been friends and they'd grown up together. When Stiles' mother had gotten sick, Lydia had been a comfort to him. She would keep close to him in school and touch him often, knowing even at such a young age that contact was an important source of comfort and security for a submissive. She had been able to reach him where their teachers couldn't when his anxiety manifested into panic attacks, often the only one who could calm him. On the nights when his father had to work or be at the hospital, Stiles would often stay at her house and they would cuddle together on the couch. And when his mother lost her battle with illness and his father had been nearly overwhelmed with the grief of losing his beloved submissive and coming to terms with becoming a single father, Stiles turned to Lydia when his need arose. To this day, she always seemed to instinctively know when he needed her.

For many years Stiles had been sure that Lydia was the Domme of his dreams, sure they were perfect for each other, even though she always gently rebuffed him. He had daydreamed often as they grew up of her realizing they were actually meant to be, and claiming him once they were of age and tattooed. But as they neared their maturity, he had come to realize that while he loved Lydia deeply, it was more as a best friend and sister than as a Dominant, though he instinctively responded to the command she naturally exuded. When it came down to it, Lydia could be downright terrifying. Like, really.

Stiles had discovered that fantasizing during his "Stiles time" about a curvaceous Domme putting him through his paces pretty much guaranteed that he would have the happiest of happy endings. But Stiles had also found that picturing a muscular Dom pushing him to the very edge and making him beg for release also resulted in Stiles having some pretty mind blowing orgasms. After thinking about it for awhile he had decided there was no sense in limiting himself. When it came to the thrill of being dominated and showing submission, Stiles didn't discriminate. He was an equal opportunity submissive.

So Stiles was content remaining the best of friends with Lydia. She looked out for him, even to the point of sometimes saving him from himself, and she saw to it that he wasn't harassed by the other students for his unclaimed status. No submissive would dare risk her displeasure by teasing him, and no Dominant was foolish enough to try to take unfair advantage of him and incur her wrath. Even fully mature Doms were hesitant to take on Lydia Martin when she was in her element.

"Now, apologize to Erica as well for asking about her private life, even though I know you meant no harm," prompted Lydia, giving his neck another gentle squeeze before releasing him.

Erica waved her hand dismissively. "It's okay, Mistress Lydia, I don't mind." She grinned mischievously at Stiles, allowing her eyes to gleam gold and her fangs to elongate slightly. "And no, I don't have to call him Alpha at home. I prefer Sir and Isaac likes Master, but he lets us call him Peter as well. When we're in public, we are expected to address him respectfully. Remember, he isn't just _an_ Alpha, he's _The_ Alpha, and he doesn't tolerate anything less than obedience and respect. And that goes for everyone, not just us. Honestly, I'm a little surprised he didn't punish you for your impudence. If Mistress Lydia hadn't been here to correct you, I imagine at best you would have found yourself in the corner so fast your head would spin, and probably with a sore ass as well."

"Headmaster doesn't usually trouble himself punishing students, he lets their Dom handle it," shrugged Stiles. "Or, I guess in my case, my dad, since I'm unclaimed," he commented, looking at his bare wrist ruefully.

Danny's eyes widened as he remembered something from the earlier conversation. "Stiles! Didn't the Headmaster say they were coming to your house to talk to your dad tonight?"

Stiles' jaw dropped open and he dropped his head to the table, groaning miserably. "He totally did. The Headmaster, coming to my house to tell my dad in person that once again, my stupid mouth got me in trouble, _plus_ being put in corner time by Dom Harris. I'm so screwed. What if I'm getting kicked out of the Academy?"

"You're getting expelled? It must be my lucky day!"

Stiles raised his head to glare at the muscular boy who had just walked up to their table. "Shut up, Jackson! This is _serious_! Life as I know it may be about to end! Do you know what my dad is going to say if I've been expelled? I'll just go ahead and tell you, he'll say he's going to kill himself a Stiles!" he sputtered, hands flailing wildly in his agitation.

"Dramatic much?" Jackson smirked back at Stiles briefly before dropping to his knees next to Lydia. He sat there quietly, head bowed and waiting for her to acknowledge him. After a moment, she reached out and tilted his chin upward, rubbing her thumb softly over his lips before releasing him.

"Good boy, Jackson, thank you for being so respectful. You may sit in a chair and join us, my sweet," she said with a smile, "but you know I expect you to be nice to Stiles. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," Jackson said reverently, resting his head on her knee for a moment before rising and grabbing a chair to pull it closer to his Domme. He moved to sit between Lydia and Danny, and as he sat down, he rested his head affectionately on Danny's shoulder, nuzzling him briefly.

Lydia smiled as she watched her boys together. Several Dominants had at one time or another had their eye on Jackson, attracted to his classical good looks, but his anger issues after finding out he had been adopted following the tragic death of his biological parents had made him difficult to dominate, making them leery of taking him on. It had been the private opinion of many that he would either go unclaimed until an older Dominant with a firm hand took a chance on him, or, worst case scenario, end a Sub Club worker, taking the domination he would desperately need from any Dom with money to buy his submission. That line of thought had only increased once an infected werewolf scratch turned him briefly into a kanima. When Lydia had decided she wanted him, it had surprised nearly everyone. More than a few people thought the brash and confident Domme simply couldn't resist a challenge and that in this instance, she would likely fail. But Lydia had patiently set to breaking down the walls Jackson had built up. It had taken some time, but the emotional breakthrough had been both intense and rewarding. Now Jackson was a werewolf, free of the kanima curse, and completely and utterly devoted to her.

When Lydia had made up her mind to take on Jackson's best friend, Danny, as a secondary submissive, few believed she would be successful. Having multiple submissives could be a challenge even for the most experienced Dominants. Lydia had gotten to know Danny while she was working on getting through to Jackson, and they had become friends. He had helped her by hacking into the school's supernatural database to learn about kanimas and how to deal with them. Danny had been grateful to Lydia for what she had done for his friend, whom he secretly adored, even though they were both submissives. He couldn't hide his true feelings from her shrewd eyes, and she found that she didn't care for the idea of Danny one day having to submit to a Dominant when his heart was otherwise occupied. Direct as always, she approached Danny and asked if he would agree to be her second submissive jointly with Jackson. He had been apprehensive at first, until she assured him that he was not in trouble for his feelings and she wasn't angry with him. She also promised to always respect his preferences, so he needn't fear being punished for not serving her in that capacity. After some consideration, Danny had agreed and they had all been together quite happily ever since.

"What am I gonna do if I'm kicked out of the Academy?" Stiles fretted. "It's bad enough I'm the only one of our group not in a claim, this practically guarantees I'll never find a Dom. I'm going to end up living at home forever and die a virgin," he panicked, working himself into an agitated state.

Lydia snapped her fingers in his face, halting his rambling. "That's enough, Stiles," she said sharply, letting command enter her voice. "Headmaster said it was a business meeting. I'm sure it's probably just introducing his nephew to your dad so he knows who he is and that he's legit. It's your dad's job to know who's who and keep the peace. I can't imagine Allison's family will be all that pleased that there's a new Hale in town."

"Isn't he a hottie, though?" purred Erica slyly as she elbowed Stiles in the ribs. "I would drop to my knees for him in a New York second. All he has to do is say the word."

"Oh my god, Erica, that's your Dom's _nephew_ you're talking about!" Stiles yelped incredulously.

Erica shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe he shouldn't lounge shirtless around the pool in those wet shorts that display his... _dominance_ so enticingly." She rolled her eyes at the open mouthed look Stiles was giving her. "What? I'm claimed, not dead. You can be on a diet and still check out the dessert menu."

"Shirtless? Shorts?" Stiles repeated faintly, eyes wide and looking slightly glazed as his mind ran rampant with images of Derek Hale, dripping wet with swim trunks clinging to him obscenely.

Jackson snorted. "I think you just broke him, Erica. Don't worry, Stilinski. Everyone knows the Hales are the crème de la crème. I can't imagine you being important enough to be on their radar for anything. They'll probably forget you're even there and you can ogle him all you want."

"Jackson!" scolded Lydia, causing him to duck his head in penitence. "You know that's not true. Stiles is going to make some lucky Dominant an excellent submissive one day. Everyone knows Derek Hale isn't in a claim, and I have no doubt that the Alpha is putting pressure on him to claim a submissive. He could do far worse than Stiles."

Stiles gave a quick bark of laughter. "I seriously doubt that's it, Lyds. I mean, Miss Lydia. That's probably completely outside the realm of possibility."

Lydia quirked a sculpted eyebrow at him. "Oh, really? Why do you say that?"

"Well, for starters, did you _see_ him?" Stiles demanded. "I mean, I only got a quick glance, but Jesus, from what I could tell he looks like a freakin' model. We're talking angels probably weep daily over his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. And then, there's me. I mean, yeah, I have no doubt one day a Dom will realize just how awesome I am and be ready to put me on my knees, but I doubt it'll be a supermodel. Let's be real."

"Hmmm, well, perhaps you underestimate yourself, Stiles. Besides, you didn't see what I saw," said Lydia, nonchalantly studying her fingernails.

Stiles frowned at her in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"

Lydia flashed him a brilliant smile. "Nothing much, really. Just that he looked like he would cheerfully have torn my throat out with his teeth for touching you." She laughed at his stunned expression. "Ah, yes, I can't wait to hear the details of this _business_ dinner."

Stiles looked at her doubtfully. He wondered if she would punish him if he told her bluntly that she had to be seeing things, because there was _no way_ the hottest Dominant he had ever seen was going to be interested in _him._ Still, it was a nice thought, definitely one for the Stiles collection of spank bank scenarios. The idea of being on his knees and submitting to Derek was enough to make his skin tingle, but no. He couldn't think about that. There was no sense in letting Lydia's teasing give him wild ideas that were best not dwelled on. He was already going to be in enough trouble for getting corner time, and he didn't even want to THINK about what would happen if his dad found out he had sassed Peter as well. He needed to focus on being on his best behavior tonight and not embarrassing himself or his dad, not daydreaming of being claimed and cuffed by Derek Hale.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pleased that there has been a positive reaction to this so far! <333
> 
> This chapter has a good bit of backstory to it and it ended up being a monster update. I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> My love and gratitude go to [Sies](http://anderson--hummel.tumblr.com) for her awesome beta skills and the time she put into working this over and making it pretty, to [Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com) for again allowing me to throw ideas at her and for all of her assurances that they aren't all insane ~~and for not taking out a restraining order on me...~~ , and to [Sam](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com) for encouraging this fic in the first place. Love you, ladies...
> 
> Soooooo...how about that season premiere??

Maksym Stilinski sat on his bed, deep in thought. In his hands he held the braided soft leather collar that had belonged to Angelique. His beloved submissive, his wife, the mother of his son. _His best friend_. The pain of losing her had never gone away, though it had tempered with time until for the most part it was a dull ache in his bones rather than the razor sharp agony that would still at times rear its ugly head.

How he wished she were here now. He needed her, needed her calming presence, needed her quiet wisdom. As he sat there alone, waiting for Stiles to come home so he could talk to him about one of the most important and most difficult decisions he had ever had to make, he cursed, not for the first time, the illness that took her from him.

Maks had met Angie his sophomore year of college. He was at Sacramento State studying criminal justice with dreams of possibly becoming a vice officer in LA one day. She had been a dance and theater major, hoping to one day open her own studio. Their first meeting had been at the library. Maks had seen her standing on tiptoes, trying to get to a book she needed from a shelf that was just out of her reach, and he had retrieved it for her. They had both been in provisional claims at the time, but Maks couldn't help but admire the honey colored eyes that had sparkled with so much personality as she smiled and thanked him for his help. He sometimes saw her around campus after that, usually in the company of the guy who was apparently her Dom. She always had a friendly smile and wave for him, while her Dom regarded him suspiciously and put an arm around her possessively.

Several months later, they ran into each other again, this time at a small bar not far from campus. He had been there with a few of his buddies, playing pool and having a few drinks. She came in with a group of giggling girlfriends. It turned out she and her Dom had ended their claim; he was overly possessive of her to the point of trying to control her life completely, which violated their contract. Angie had known things were going sour when he began telling her who she could hang out with and trying to make her change her major in school to something more "appropriate." When he began accusing her of being a dancer just to entice other Dominants, she knew she had to end the claim. Her girlfriends had drug her to the bar that night to both cheer her up and celebrate her new freedom.

Maks had recently ended his claim as well. He had been content enough with his submissive, but the same wasn't true for her. Although Maks had earned a scholarship, it didn't cover all his schooling expenses. He didn't want to take out loans and end up starting life after school in debt, so he worked two jobs to pay the remainder of tuition fees and be able to live off of, as well as being a full time student. Between work, classes, and studying, he was often tired and didn't always have much time for her. He knew that he wasn't always meeting her needs; he could feel it in his own dominant nature when it had not been tended to, the prickling unease that happened when he didn't exert his domination and gain submission in return. Things had come to a head, though, the night he came home early when class got cancelled and found his submissive in their bed being spanked by another Dom. While two Doms could certainly share a submissive if it were contracted, Maks had never agreed to it, and it was a direct violation of their contract. There had been a loud argument that culminated in her stripping his cuff off her wrist and throwing it at him, screaming that she was leaving and would be back for her things. He had torn up their contract that night and then called his best friend, who showed up with movies, booze, and the assurance that it wasn't _all_ his fault.

Still, Maks felt guilty because he felt like he had failed his submissive by not tending to her needs and making her search for fulfillment outside of their claim. She hadn't even trusted him enough to come to him and talk to him about it. He was within rights to lodge a complaint against the other Dom, since interference in a claim fell under jurisdiction of the magistrate, but he decided it was hardly worth it. The damage had been done and there was no sense pursuing a claim that very clearly wasn't working. Maks was a little leery of taking on a new submissive while he was still in school, worried that the same thing would happen. He had been able to keep himself in control and had not had to visit a Sub Club thus far, though he knew if it came down to it, he would have no choice.

Talking to Angie that night had been like a breath of fresh air. Her amazing eyes had sparkled with life and her smile had captivated him. Their friends had seen what was happening and melted into the background, giving them ample space to get to know each other. They had exchanged phone numbers that night. Two and a half years later, newly graduated Maksym moved to the small city of Beacon Hills with Angie, now collared and heavily pregnant. He joined the sheriff's department as a fresh faced young deputy, having given up the idea of working vice in the big city without regret the night he had arrived home to Angie, kneeling by the door with a tearful smile of joy and test results from the doctor's office that confirmed they were going to be parents.

Their son had been born on a rainy day in April. He had come into the world screaming, waving his arms and kicking his feet wildly. When a nurse had thrust the wriggling bundle into his arms, Maks had just stared at him in awe, unable to believe he had a part in something so exquisitely perfect. He had dropped to his knees at the bedside, much to Angie's discomfited amusement, and had kissed her tenderly, whispering words of praise and love to the woman who had just presented him with a beautiful son. They named him Aurélien, meaning "golden," after her father. When the blood test returned indicating their son was a submissive, Angie had cuddled him close and declared that she was the luckiest woman in the world, to have such a loving Dom and her own little submissive to raise and adore.

God, he had loved her so much. Losing her had been a blow he still hadn't recovered from. Not a day went by that his soul didn't weep for her, didn't call for its missing half. Stiles was so much like her, the same gorgeous eyes and full mouth, the same joie de vivre. Angie had loved both of them with every fiber of her being. She had been an incredible mother, always patient and loving. When Stiles had been a baby she had laughingly nicknamed him Ptaszek, which meant little bird, because he was always open mouthed and hungry. As he grew, she deemed the nickname still appropriate, since he chattered constantly. She understood Stiles in ways that his Dominant father sometimes couldn't. The two of them had been thick as thieves, and her illness had definitely taken its toll on Stiles. He had become nervous and withdrawn, prone to anxiety and panic attacks. When Angie passed away, Maks had nearly lost his mind with grief. He would forever be grateful to the Martins for helping so much with Stiles during that time, because he had been adrift without her to anchor him, barely able take care of himself, much less his frightened young son who was also grieving.

Angie's death had marked a significant change in Stiles as well. He had come to him after her funeral and dropped to his knees, lips quivering with unreleased sobs but determined to make a request of his Dom father. He had asked at that time to no longer be called Ptaszek and to be able to go by his school nickname of Stiles, rather than Aurélien. Maks understood his son's need to keep those links to his mother separate and private, and gave his consent. When Stiles selected a bird for his tattoo when he reached his maturity, Maks had been an emotional mess internally, though he had allowed only fierce paternal pride to be displayed.

He had known this day would come, the day where he would have to let his son go. In that moment, he missed Angie more than ever. They were supposed to do this together; watch with pride as their boy left them and entered into his first claim, and then weep over it in private, that their baby boy had grown into such a young man and was starting a life that didn't fully include them.

Having Peter Hale request his presence at his home a few weeks ago was unusual. Maks had been more than a little curious about the 'urgent matter' that required his assistance, especially when it was emphasized that it wasn't in his capacity as Sheriff. He had gone to the Hale estate in his own vehicle and dressed in street clothes. The door had been answered by a service submissive that had ushered him into Peter's private study, where the Alpha had been waiting for him.

Maks had assumed that Peter's purpose in calling him had something to do with Stiles, either with his schooling or some sort of disciplinary problem. There had already been an eventful conference with Dom Finstock over a term paper Stiles had done about achieving subspace while being bound and blindfolded. By Finstock's own admission, the paper was brilliant and well written. However, the assignment was for English class and had been to write about the symbolism in To Kill A Mockingbird, and Stiles had started off writing that justice was supposed to be blind and devolved from there. He had steeled himself for another such conversation, but it turned out Peter wanted to talk to him about Stiles for reasons he had never imagined even in his wildest speculations.

_"My nephew is shortly to return home from New York, Sheriff Stilinski. I'm sure you remember Derek?"_

_Maks remembered vividly the night of the Hale fire, remembered watching helplessly as the flames licked high in the night sky, knowing there had been a family inside unable to get out. He had been there as paramedics had bundled a hysterically weeping Laura and Derek, dry-eyed with shock, into an ambulance to take them to the hospital._

_Interviewing the teens afterward had been a harrowing job, especially when details came to light concerning young Derek and Kate Argent, daughter of Gerard Argent, prolific Hunter and werewolf hater. Kate was a Domme who was several years older than Derek and had used trickery and seduction to manipulate the un-tattooed boy into a clandestine relationship, all to learn details of the prominent Hale family in order to be able to destroy them._

_Kate's arrest and trial had been full of scandal and intrigue. Only the combined efforts and money of the Hale and Argent families had kept it from becoming a nationwide media sensation. Maks had to testify his department's findings; that Kate, a mature Domme, had colored over her red tattoo with temporary black in order to appear as a submissive. She had enticed underage Derek by telling him she was afraid of her Dominant father and promised that as soon as he was tattooed he could claim her and they would be together. Using sex and empty assurances to play mind games with Derek, she was soon able to gather enough information about the Hales to carry out her murderous plan. She had coerced a young submissive named Matt Daehler into helping her, promising to claim him after he proved his worth to her but intending all along to implicate him to where he would ultimately take the fall. They had created a barrier of wolfsbane around the house that trapped the werewolves inside, but when it came to setting the house alight, Matt had second thoughts and balked. Kate ruthlessly pushed him aside and set the house on fire herself. Eight Hale family members had died in the resulting deadly fire and explosion; Laura and Derek had only survived because they'd been at school for a football game._

_Matt, soon realizing that Kate had been playing him all along, had turned state's evidence for a lighter sentence and had testified against her. He had given details on her plan to bring down the Hale family for no reason other than blind hatred. Maks had watched Kate closely during the trial. She had sat there, looking almost bored most of the time, giving no indication of any sort of remorse. The only emotion she showed was a cold smile when photos of the crime scene were projected on the screen for the jury to see. It had chilled his blood._

_When the jury returned with a guilty verdict, no one was surprised. The sentence of life in prison, which still seemed a bit light to many, considering the number of lives taken in cold blood, garnered cheers of approval from all except the small faction of extremist hunters that supported her actions._

_Laura and Derek had been whisked away as soon as their testimonies were over, sent to New York to live under the protection of one of the large packs residing there and to get away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues. Laura had returned several months prior and had moved into Peter's large estate home. She'd soon begun working with him at the school, and Maks had heard she was being groomed as both the next Headmistress of the school and the next Alpha for whenever Peter decided to step aside._

_"Of course I remember him. I hope he's doing well?" he asked Peter politely._

_Peter had shaken his head. "I wish I could say he was, but sadly that isn't the case. He's still haunted by the past, I'm afraid, and has been reluctant to take on his own submissive."_

_Maks raised an eyebrow, wondering what exactly Peter was getting at. "I suppose that isn't too surprising, given what happened to him. That's not something one easily recovers from. Is he at risk of going feral?" That might explain why Peter wanted him aware that Derek was coming home. A human Dominant would suffer debilitating headaches if they neglected their nature, while a submissive would become ill to the point of painful cramping, nausea and hallucinations. For werewolves, it was even worse, as the wolf part of them would overtake their human side. A feral werewolf had to be dealt with swiftly and carefully._

_"No, no, of course not." Peter looked horrified at the idea that a member of his family was not in control of themselves. "He at least had sense enough to go to Sub Clubs to tend to his needs. No, Maks...do you mind if I call you that?" At Maks' short nod, Peter continued, "I assure you, he is in no danger of going feral. That's not why I called you here at all."_

_Peter paused dramatically and Maks crossed his arms as he waited. After a moment, he grew impatient. "Well?" he demanded. "I know I'm here unofficially and off duty, but my time is valuable, Alpha Hale. I'd appreciate you getting to the point."_

_Instead of answering right away, Peter regarded him with a contemplative eye. Finally, just as Maks was about to demand Peter get to the point or else he was leaving, Peter abruptly changed the subject. "Your son doesn't have a Dominant." It was a statement, rather than a question._

_"What does Stiles have to do with any of this?" Maks asked in confusion. He knew that as Headmaster of the school, Peter was fully aware that Stiles was as yet unclaimed._

_Peter's eyes gleamed, a quick flash of red that was gone as quickly as it came. He smiled slowly and said, "I have a proposal for you. And please, call me Peter..."_

At first Maks had met Peter's suggestion that Derek claim Stiles as his submissive with a sense of disbelief. Of all scenarios he had envisioned for Stiles entering his first claim, getting involved with a werewolf, much less a Hale and, even less, _Derek Hale,_ had never crossed his mind. But the more he thought about it, the more he found himself actually rather liking the idea, much to his surprise. After all, he had no doubt that Stiles becoming part of the Alpha's household would afford him a certain amount of prestige among the citizens of Beacon Hill, not to mention the protection it would offer him. He could certainly do far worse for his first claim. After accidentally finding Stiles' porn folder on his computer, Maks had a feeling that Stiles was rather unlikely to object to a male Dom, not that it bothered him in the slightest. His main concern was what was best for his son.

Maks remembered well the vulnerable young wolf he had worked with in the aftermath of the fatal fire. No one deserved to have that happen to them. Derek Hale had been a good kid who had been caught up in a bad situation and dealt a devastating blow, and Maks wasn't in the least surprised that he was still struggling with the ramifications of his past.

The sound of the door slamming signaled Stiles' arrival home and brought Maks out of his deep thoughts. He replaced Angie's collar in the special box he'd had made for their first anniversary and put it back on the top shelf of his closet.

"Dad?"

"I'm up here, Stiles," Maks called back. The sound of Stiles' feet on the stairs grew louder as he neared the top. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror that hung on the inside of the closet door and took a deep breath. _It was time._

The door burst open as Stiles breathlessly entered. "Hey, Dad, I wanted to-"

"Knees, Aurélien," Maks commanded quietly, motioning to a kneeling pillow he'd placed in the center of his bedroom. He watched silently as Stiles froze momentarily, his mouth open and his eyes widened in surprise before he hastened to obey. It was rare for him to make Stiles kneel for anything, rarer still for him to use his given name, but this was an important matter they needed to discuss.

"Is this about getting corner time in Dom Harris' class?" Stiles asked tentatively, "Because in my own defense, it was Scott's idea. I mean, it was _my_ idea, but it was _Scott's_ idea to try it in class and we-"

Maks held up a hand to indicate for Stiles to be quiet. "It isn't about that, Stiles, although I'm sure we'll be discussing that at a later time. I've spoken to Peter Hale and I-"

Stiles interrupted him. "Wait, Dad, about that, I wasn't _trying_ to sass the Headmaster, honestly, it just slipped out, and Lydia was right there to reprimand me so if it's just the same-"

"Hold on, you're telling me you sassed the Alpha?" Maks had to fight to keep a grin from sneaking across his face. He had told Peter that, while it was true Stiles excelled at his submission classes, he was no shrinking submissive, ready to capitulate to just any Dominant.

A look of panic crossed Stiles' face. "Well, I-"

Maks shook his head and sighed. "Nevermind, Stiles. We'll talk about that later as well. Now," he said, letting command re-enter his voice, "I expect you to be quiet and let me speak. Don't say anything unless I ask you to. Nod if you understand."

When Stiles nodded his head, Maks smiled at him. "Good boy. As I was saying, I have spoken to Peter Hale recently. His nephew Derek is returning home from New York. I'm sure you don't remember, since you were young when it happened, but Derek lost most of his family in a terrible fire. He's been living in New York, but he has come back to work with his uncle."

Maks gave Stiles a significant look. "I know you've been feeling a bit left out as of late with your friends, what with Lydia taking on her two submissives and Scott getting himself claimed by the Argent girl." Privately, Maks wondered if Peter had informed Derek that the niece of the woman convicted of murdering his family was not only enrolled as a student at the Academy, but also the Domme of one of Stiles' best friends. He had his suspicions that conversation might not have occurred yet and made a mental note to ask Peter about it. When that conversation happened, he wouldn't want Stiles anywhere near the vicinity.

"You haven't complained, but I know you, Stiles. It's tough when your friends are involved in things in their own lives that don't include you, especially when it seems you are the only one who doesn't have anything going on. But you've done well in school; I'm so proud of your excellent grades and that you are playing lacrosse on the submissive's team. I'm not the only one who's noticed either," Maks stated.

Stiles stared at him curiously, wriggling slightly on his knees in an effort to stay silent. Maks pressed onward.

"The Headmaster asked me to come see him recently to talk to him about Derek. About Derek and you, in particular. He asked me for permission to have Derek claim you."

 _"What?"_ Stiles yelped, falling off the pillow as his whole body jerked in surprise, losing his battle to stay obediently silent. He quickly righted himself to kneel on the pillow again but continued to look at his father with stunned disbelief.

"It's okay, Stiles," Maks hurried to reassure him, thinking Stiles' reaction was maybe a nervous reaction. "The choice is still yours. I made sure of that. I also made sure that if you don't want Derek to be your first Dom, there will be no repercussions at school."

Stiles shook his head, looking a little dazed. "No, Dad, that's not it at all. I just-we met him today, the headmaster brought him to our table and I had no idea. No clue who he was or anything."

Maks smiled at his flustered son. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it. What did you think? Do you think you could submit to Derek? I think it could be a good first claim for you, but I want you to be comfortable with your Dom. A Hale claiming you would be considered a big thing around town, but if you don't think you'd be happy then I'll just tell them tonight to forget about it. Your happiness and well being are what's important to me, not what other people think."

"Jesus, Dad, have you _seen_ him?" Stiles asked, gesturing with both arms.

Maks frowned. "Well, not recently. Not since he was a kid about your age. Is there something wrong? It's not a problem that he's a male dominant, right?"

Stiles shook his head vehemently. "Oh, god, no. I'm fine with that. He's just freakin' _hot_. Gloriously so."

"Okay? And that's a good thing, right?" Maks wanted to be sure he understood. "Will you be willing to accept his claim? That means you'll be agreeing to submit to him. They're coming tonight to make you a formal offer. If you agree then we'll make arrangements to meet with the magistrate to enter into the claim. You'll be going with him to live at the Hale estate. There will be a contract drawn up and everything. Is this what you want? Talk to me, Stiles."

"Lydia's never going to let me live this down," Stiles said distractedly, still looking dazed.

Maks frowned in concern. He knew at one point Stiles had carried a torch for Lydia, but he thought that phase had passed. "What's Lydia got to do with this?"

Stiles shook his head, giving a short, unbelieving laugh. "Oh, nothing really, just that she's once again proven right. She's always right, you know."

"O-o-okay," Maks said, deciding not to ask what Stiles meant, "as long as you're sure, then when they get here tonight I'll give my permission for the claim to happen. We'll need to make an appointment with Deaton, the magistrate, to meet with the two of you along with the Alpha to make it a formal deal. After that it's a matter of you getting your cuffs and setting up your contract. Derek's had some serious heartache in his past, son. He's been hesitant to claim a sub, but now he's finally ready to do so, and the person he's choosing is you. This is what you want?"

Stiles swallowed nervously but nodded his head. "Yeah, Dad. I'll do it. I'll take the claim."

Maks smiled at Stiles, though it was a little sad. "Alright then. On your feet, son. Come give me a hug." He opened his arms for Stiles to step into and held him tightly, knowing the boy he held would soon cease to exist and in his place would be a young man. "I wish your mother were here to see this. She would have been so happy and proud."

Stiles gave a little sniffle and protested, "Dad, I can't officially meet my new Dom looking like I've been crying. He'll get the wrong idea." He laid his head on his father's shoulder and sighed. "I miss her so much, Dad. I wish she was here, too."

They stood there quietly holding each other for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Maks gave Stiles a final squeeze and pushed him back gently. "Alright. They'll be here in a few hours, so we need to get ready. I put some nice steaks in some marinade earlier, so they should be ready for the grill before too long. And don't give me that look," he said sternly, seeing Stiles' disapproving glance. "I work hard, I can have a steak from time to time. Besides, we're hosting werewolves tonight, important ones at that, and I'm not about to insult them with vegetarian cuisine."

"Could've done chicken," mumbled Stiles in protest.

Maks shook his head fondly. "Nothing but the best for your new Dom, my boy. So let's get a move on. Times a-wastin'. I'm going to go start the grill. There are baking potatoes next to the sink, I want you to clean them and get them ready to cook. There's also stuff in the fridge for a salad, so your need for vegetables is met. I figure you can make some sort of dessert and that should do. Sound like a plan?"

Stiles nodded. "Okay, I'll go get started. I might as well call Lydia while I'm working and let her start congratulating herself." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "She said there was a reason Headmaster had brought Derek to our table today. She had a feeling there was something about the way he looked at me and how he looked at her for touching me. I thought she was crazy."

Knowing how possessive wolf Doms could be, Maks wasn't surprised that the perceptive Lydia had caught onto Derek. There was no way Peter hadn't smugly told Derek in advance just who he was taking him to see. It would be interesting to see how _that_ dynamic worked out. Although there had never been any claim or intent to claim, Lydia had been subconsciously domming Stiles for years, even when they were children and didn't know any better. She was fiercely protective of him and would hardly be the type to back down if she felt she was in the right where Stiles was concerned. He just hoped the two Dominants would manage to get along and not cause Stiles to feel conflicted between them. He gave Stiles a squeeze on the shoulder and went to prepare the grill.

Stiles stood there for a moment, then slowly went down the hall to his bedroom. He walked in and shut the door, looking around briefly. For some reason, it seemed surreal, like there should be something different about it. Yet it was still the same; somewhat cluttered, bed unmade and clothes tossed in the vicinity of the hamper rather than in it, soda cans and empty Cheetos and Doritos bags littering the computer desk. He wondered if he had time to clean any before starting his part of dinner, then decided against it. Claim or not, it was hardly likely his dad would let him bring Derek into his room. Not that they would do...what? Anything? Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot at the thought of kneeling before his Dom, but he refused to let his mind wander further. He'd watched his fair share of porn, probably more than might be good for him, but hey, he'd done his research. The last thing he had wanted was to embarrass himself once he was finally claimed. Stiles firmly believed in being prepared for anything, so of course he had watched both straight and gay porn. For science. And reasons.

But he didn't need to be getting distracted and he definitely didn't have time for Stiles time, because his Dom was coming over tonight and...

_Holy shit, his DOM was coming over tonight!_

Stiles grabbed his cellphone out of his bag and unlocked the screen. He hurriedly hit the button to call Lydia, mentally denying the fact that his hands shook ever so slightly.

_C'mon, Lyds, pick up, pick up..._

"Stiles?" answered Lydia, sounding just a little distracted.

"Oh my god, Lyds, you were right, you were so right," gasped out Stiles.

"Of course I was right," Lydia said smugly, then, "Wait, about what? What am I right about now?"

"My dad just told me that he and the headmaster have an agreement and Derek Hale, smokin' hot, supermodel, direct descendant of the gods _Derek Hale_ is going to be my Dom, and Jesus Christ, Lydia, I'm gonna have a heart attack right now," Stiles panted as his anxiety threatened to overtake him.

"Breathe, Stiles," Lydia said sharply. She listened for a moment for his breathing to regulate as he automatically complied. "In, out, and again. Yes, good boy, that's better." She paused for a moment before letting out a slightly wicked sounding giggle. "Is this where I say I told you so?"

"How is it you're always right?" grumbled Stiles, feeling better now that his heartbeat had slowed back down.

"Darling, you should know by now that I'm rarely wrong, especially when it comes to men and what they want," Lydia said flippantly. "Now, I don't mean to cut this short, but I have my boys playing right now and I need to get back to them. I'm rewarding Jackson for making lacrosse captain."

"You're letting him Dom Danny?" Stiles squawked in surprise.

"They're playing," Lydia corrected. "Like what Erica was saying at lunch today. I saw how Danny reacted and knew he would be interested. Besides, it pleases me to please them, and they are awfully pretty together. So if you'll excuse me, I do need to go. You should call Scott. He missed out on all this today, and you know if you don't tell him until after the fact he'll have his feelings hurt and walk around for days with that kicked puppy look. Gotta go, bye!"

The line went dead as she ended the call without giving Stiles the chance to say anything else. Stiles stared bemusedly at his phone for a moment, blown away as always by the whirlwind that was Lydia Martin. She was right, though, he needed to call Scott and fill him in. As a fellow submissive, Scott could probably relate more to the mixture of excitement and apprehension that came with being claimed. God knew Stiles had listened to Scott for what seemed like endless hours when Allison first started at Hale Academy and became the Domme of Scott's dreams. He wasn't sure who had been more relieved when Allison claimed Scott: Scott or himself.

Stiles checked the time and decided that unless he wanted to end up making their dinner late, hardly the impression he wanted to make, he would have to call Scott while working in the kitchen. He dialed and held the phone to his ear as he quickly made his way down the stairs, stumbling and missing the bottom one completely in his haste but somehow managing to stay upright and still holding his phone.

"Hey, Stiles!" Scott cheerfully greeted when he picked up. "What's up?"

"Hey. Can you talk?" Stiles asked as he started running water in the sink to scrub the potatoes his dad had indicated earlier. He pulled out the tinfoil and some sea salt and olive oil, deciding he would prepare them for baking while talking to Scott.

"Sure. Allison's not in right now, she and her dad are training. Luckily, her mom decided to go along and watch them. I know the fact I'm a wolf doesn't sit so well with them, but her dad's just intimidating. Her mom, on the other hand, looks at me like she could imagine nothing more pleasurable than flaying me alive. That woman is one terrifying Domme," Scott said in a near whisper, as though the Argents were the ones with the enhanced senses and might overhear him somehow.

Stiles winced in sympathy. When the well known hunter clan found out their darling Allison fully intended to claim a wolf submissive, there had been heated arguments among them. Victoria in particular had been horrified by what people would think. Allison, having been raised as a strong Domme that expected to be accommodated and obeyed, would not be swayed, and Chris and Victoria reluctantly welcomed Scott into their home as their daughter's submissive. While Peter Hale was more than a little intimidating, both as a Dom and the Alpha wolf, at least Stiles could take comfort in the fact that Peter didn't actively dislike him.

"I can imagine," Stiles said sympathetically. "So, did you get in a lot of trouble today? You guys never did come to the group lounge for free period."

"You know how it is when Allison punishes me. She makes sure to let me know how disappointed she is, which is the absolute worst, because I _hate_ that, I just want to please her, you know? But then she makes me go with her to Dom Harris' class. I think she's going to make me apologize or something, which would have sucked enough, because he's such a dick, right? But no. She makes me sit in a desk and _watch_ while she goes to the board and writes 'I will not allow my submissive to misbehave in class' 500 times. Like she's being punished instead for something I did. I realized what she was doing right away and I begged her to let _me_ do it. But she just ignored me and didn't say a word, which freakin' sucks. She wouldn't let me write, wouldn't let me do it _for_ her. By the time she was finished, I swear, I had nearly died," lamented Scott.

"That's rough, buddy," Stiles commiserated, feeling his own guilt for his part in Scott's punishment. Not being allowed to serve their Dom was guaranteed to get to a sub, making them feel even more guilty for having disappointed, especially when they had to watch their Dom do something in their place. But being ignored by their Dom was even worse. Stiles hoped he never made Derek angry enough to ignore him.

"It's okay," Scott said cheerfully. "When she was finished she let me kneel for her, and she petted me and told me she forgave me but expected me to behave in class, that it wasn't right to cause a distraction and keep others from learning. So I'm okay. She's the perfect Domme, you know?"

"You've mentioned it before," Stiles said dryly, having heard such a sentiment from his friend numerous times. "So listen, since you weren't with us during free time you missed meeting the Headmaster's nephew, Derek Hale."

"Yeah?" asked Scott, not sounding terribly interested.

"Yeah," answered Stiles, rolling his eyes. He loved Scott, but his friend was decidedly Allison-centric at times, and if it wasn't in some way related to her he tended to not pay attention. "You could be a little more enthusiastic here, best buddy old pal, seeing as this is your future brother-from-another-mother-in-law we're discussing here," he said, fighting back a slightly hysterical laugh as he anticipated Scott's reaction. He waited for a moment for Scott to realize what he had said, nearly ready to repeat himself when he heard Scott's choked intake of air.

"Wait, what?" sputtered Scott. "You want to be claimed by the Alpha's nephew? Are you crazy?"

"What's so crazy about it? You weren't even there, you haven't _seen_ this guy. Besides, how does that make me crazy? Don't I deserve to be claimed by a good Dom?" Stiles reasoned, trying to keep the slight hurt out of his voice and not succeeding. "It's actually happening, by the way, not just my wishful thinking. Headmaster talked to my dad about it, and they're coming over tonight for dinner and to discuss the claim. You could at least be happy for me, Scott, I would've thought that you of all people might be."

"Sorry," Scott said meekly. "You just caught me off guard. Of course you deserve a great Dom, the best. Are you sure he's it, though? I mean, you don't even know this guy. What do you know about him besides who his uncle is and that he's got a pretty face? What if he's an asshole?"

Stiles wasn't sure exactly how to answer. Scott had wanted to belong to Allison almost from the moment he'd given her a pen in a class they shared. They'd had a definite connection. How could he make Scott understand that the idea of kneeling and submitting to Derek seemed _right_ somehow, when he didn't really understand it himself? "Do you really think my dad would agree to let me go to someone who was an asshole?" he parried instead.

"You're right," agreed Scott, sounding relieved. "Your dad would never do that. So, hey, wow! This is actually happening! Your first claim. By one of the Hales at that! Practically royalty now, huh? How do you feel?"

"Truthfully? I think I'm freaking out just a little," Stiles confessed as he finished scrubbing the potatoes and started tearing off tinfoil to wrap them in once he'd coated them in olive oil and salted them. "Like I said, you didn't see this guy. He's _super_ hot, you have no idea. He could get any submissive he wanted. We're talking they would probably fight each other for the chance to get with him. Yet here he is, choosing me. What if he regrets it? What if I'm not good enough?"

"What are you talking about? Of course you're good enough. He's lucky to be getting you," Scott declared loyally. "I get it, that he's hot, but let's be real, you aren't so bad yourself, not that _I_ look at you like that, but I get why someone else would. You're one of the top submissives in school, everyone knows that. No wonder the Alpha likes the match, nothing but the best for his family, right? Since he's your first Dom, he'll get all your firsts, you know? He gets to train you just how he likes. For some Doms that's supposed to be a big deal."

Stiles knew Scott was trying to make him feel better, but instead he was suddenly feeling more nervous at the thought of doing _anything_ with Derek. "He'll be able to tell I have no clue what I'm doing, Scott. I've never done anything with anyone, all I know I learned on the Internet and by watching porn. He's either going to die laughing at me or kick me out and wonder why he bothered taking on a sub no one else wanted," Stiles worried as he poked holes in the wrapped potatoes with a fork.

"Don't be stupid," retorted Scott. "If he's anything like the Alpha it'll probably give him a huge ego boost to be the one who gets to do things to you. At least now you can quit complaining that you've never seen nudity in real life except for the locker room."

"Hey, everyone knows that doesn't actually count. Besides, I saw Jessa Meyer's boob at the pool once!" argued Stiles defensively.

" _Really?_ You never mentioned it. How'd you manage that?" asked Scott, sounding betrayed that this was the first time he'd heard this. "She _showed_ you?"

"Not exactly. She was at the deep end and her suit had slipped. I don't think she noticed," Stiles soothed, trying to placate him.

"So it was just there hanging out by itself? Did it float?" Scott asked, sounding fascinated.

"I don't know, sort of, I guess? You've never asked Allison or looked at hers in the water before?" Stiles questioned, wondering why it mattered.

"My dick floats," Scott laughed.

"Gee, Scott, let me call the local news. There's probably time to get you a feature on the late showing," Stiles shot back sarcastically.

"Doesn't yours?" asked Scott, still laughing.

"Dude, how are we _even_ discussing this? I take showers. Showers are nice for Stiles time, which I happen to enjoy. As often as I can. I promise, if I ever find out, you'll be the first person to know," Stiles threatened, only half joking. He had to hand it to Scott, though, he was feeling a bit more relaxed now.

"I bet you say that to all the boys," Scott teased. "But listen, I need to go. I just heard the garage door opening, which means Allison's back from training. I'm going to go run her a hot bath and get her bed ready. If I'm lucky, maybe she'll let me massage her tonight. I'd say break a leg, but I'd be afraid you'd actually do it. So good luck, yeah?"

"Gee, thanks, Scott, nothing like the confidence of your best friend to give you that calming little boost," Stiles snarked.

"Dude, you're worrying for nothing. He's going to love you. You got this, okay? We'll talk later and you can give me all the dirty details. Go get him, tiger!" and Scott hung up.

Stiles put his phone down and wondered briefly about his choice in friends and what that said about him as a person. He arranged the potatoes in a foil pan and took them outside to his dad to be grilled, then returned to the kitchen to mix together a large bowl of salad and try to figure out something for dessert.

He could so do this.

Deciding on his mother's chocolate lava cake recipe, Stiles set the oven to preheat and deftly mixed together the ingredients. He prepared them in the ramekins that Angie had always insisted made the cakes taste the best. Stiles popped them in the oven and set the timer on his phone. He decided he had just enough time to shower and change before they were ready, so he headed back upstairs to do so.

If he jerked off in the shower to thoughts of Derek Hale whispering words of praise to him while he sucked his cock, well, it was no one's business but his own.

* * *

Derek paced his room pensively. He had rearranged his closet _(twice)_ to make room for anything Stiles might want or need to hang up and had emptied half of the drawers in the dresser to accommodate for Stiles' things. A service submissive had already stripped his king sized bed and replaced all the bedding with clean linens. The sheets were the soft and luxurious high thread count that Derek preferred, and the comforter was plush and lightweight. Extra pillows were piled on the bed and Derek hoped it looked cozy and inviting. He sat on the bed and bounced, testing the springiness of the mattress, idly wondering if Stiles would find it comfortable and finding himself really, _really_ hoping so.

There was a perfunctory knock on the door and Laura burst in without waiting for an answer. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were avoiding me." She softly shut the door behind her and rushed across his room, stopping in front of him to stare at him with wide eyes.

"What are you talk- _what the hell are you doing?_ " barked Derek, his whole body jerking in surprise as his sister, the next Alpha and a Domme in her own right with a soon to be collared submissive, dropped to her knees in front of him.

Laura looked at him, her normally mischievous and sparkling eyes now wide and pleading as she took his hands in her own. "Is it true? Please say it's real and not just Peter trying to mess with my head with his twisted sense of humor."

"What are you going on about? Get _up_ ," hissed Derek, growing more uncomfortable each moment she knelt before him. He pulled his hands out of her grasp and slid over, patting his bed to indicate for her to sit next to him.

Laura rose to her feet with a fluid grace that even Peter admitted he sometimes envied and sat down on the proffered spot. She eyed Derek's face, looking at it as though she could discover any secrets he might be hiding if she concentrated hard enough. She took a deep breath and released it on a soft sigh.

"Peter says you're finally taking a submissive, Der. Actually claiming one, not just hitting up the clubs again. Is it true?" Laura asked gently as she continued to stare at him searchingly.

Derek swallowed heavily. There were times Laura reminded him so much of their mother it was almost painful. He scowled at her to cover up his emotions and keep them at bay. "It's not like it's a big deal, Lola. Peter arranged the whole deal with the Sheriff beforehand. I take on his kid as a sub and they have some sort of business partnership arrangement after that."

"Not a big deal?" Laura retorted. "Are you joking? This is huge! This is the first time you've taken a real submissive. You're finally letting go of the past and not letting that bitch keep a hold on you even from her prison cell. I _know_ you, Derek. You've wouldn't do something you didn't want to do, no matter how much Peter stomped and snarled you'd have found a way out if you wanted to." She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "You would, right? Peter didn't blackmail you into this or anything? Don't get me wrong, I want you to have a true sub, but only if you want it. If you're doing this under duress, I'll have your back with Peter. You know that." She ran her hands through her long, dark hair and huffed in frustration. "I don't know what I'm saying here. I feel like I'm contradicting myself."

Derek smiled grimly at her. "He didn't really give me any choice. It was The Alpha that informed me I'd be taking on the Stilinski kid as a submissive. You know that means it's final or else."

Laura stared at him. "Did you say Stilinski? You're getting Stiles Stilinski as a submissive?" A huge smile broke over her face. "But, Der, that's _awesome!_ He's one of the best submissives in the school, smart, a bit on the sassy side, maybe, but it just adds to his charm if you ask me. Oh, and he's so adorable it should honestly be illegal. Just wait until you see him!"

"I already have," Derek confessed, almost reluctantly but unable to keep the truth from her. "Peter took me to see him at the school."

Laura studied him for a moment, then her smile became a wicked grin. "You _liked_ him, didn't you?" she crowed triumphantly. " _That's_ why you aren't fighting Peter on this, Alpha decree or no. You'd have found a way out of it somehow if you didn't really want it, even if it meant getting your ass handed to you by Peter for insubordination." She laughed delightedly.

"Shut up," grumbled Derek irritably. He was a grown man, he hated when Laura somehow managed to make him feel like an awkward teenager. So what if she was absolutely right? There was something about Stiles Stilinski that captured his interest and made his wolf pace in anticipation. The thought of having him in his bed, awaiting the pleasures he could show him made Derek's mouth go dry and his body burn with a need that he'd never felt before with any other submissive.

"Oh, no, I am going to enjoy this, you have absolutely no idea. I can't wait to welcome him to the family. I know! I should get him a nice gift basket filled with toys and things!" Laura grinned when Derek bared his teeth and growled at her. "Ohhhhhh, possessive already, are we, little brother? Don't want anyone spoiling your submissive but you?"

Derek fought back a blush, hating that Laura knew exactly how to get to him. She really was world's worst tease. "You have your own submissive to pamper," he said instead, refusing to directly acknowledge her comment.

"True," Laura beamed happily. "Boyd is amazing, so gorgeous when he submits. You should know, though," she continued wickedly, "Stiles isn't the top submissive student for nothing. He kneels quite prettily, if I do say so myself. And those incredible eyes of his, they just _shine_ with perfect submission when he's being put through his paces. He seems to have quite the affinity for endurance, it seems. Oh, and don't forget that gorgeous mouth of his. I don't know which would be better, to see those pretty lips stretched around a gag or to listen to every plea he made while pushing him to his limit."

Derek glowered at her, fighting back another growl and refusing to let his mind conjure up the images her words created. "You're a horrible person," he snapped.

"I know," Laura agreed as she shrugged nonchalantly. "It keeps me awake at night. Seriously, though, Derek," she said earnestly, "I really am happy for you. I honestly was afraid you would keep on punishing yourself for what happened. Don't you know that by keeping yourself from claiming a true submissive and giving yourself the chance to be happy, you've been letting her win all this time?"

Derek looked at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Lola. No matter which way you look at things, it was my fault."

"You were a _kid_ , Derek. She knew just how to get to you and make you dance to her tune. What happened was terrible, nothing changes that, but you're still here, you're still alive. Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted you torturing yourself." Laura reached out and cupped Derek's cheek in his hand. "I know they'd be really happy for you right now," she said softly. "You have a real chance for true happiness here, Der. Don't let her ruin it for you. She's in prison, paying her dues. Just let her rot there."

They sat quietly for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts and memories of the past. A soft knock on the door startled them both back to the present.

"Come in," Derek said loud enough for whomever it was to hear. The door opened and one of the household service subs stepped in, eyes downcast respectfully.

"If you please, Sir, Alpha Hale is requesting your presence in the study," he said quietly. "Shall I inform him you'll join him momentarily?"

"Go ahead. Might as well get this over with," Derek groused. "Thank you, that'll be all," he waved a hand in dismissal to send the submissive on his way.

Laura stood up and tugged him to his feet. "Be excited, Der! You're going to get your submissive!" She then looked him over critically. "You're not wearing _that_ , are you?"

Derek looked down at his gray Henley and dark blue jeans. He frowned at Laura. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Do you think this is just some casual dinner you're going to?" demanded Laura. "You're going to have dinner with the Sheriff at his house and declare your intent to deflower his only child! Don't you think you should dress up just a little for the occasion?"

"Good god, Laura, I'm not going to tell him I'm going to deflower his son, do I look that stupid to you?" hissed Derek, glaring at her even as he moved to comply with what she said. She did have an excellent point, of course, but Derek would bathe in liquid wolfsbane before he admitted so to her out loud.

Laura glared right back at him. "The man is no idiot, Derek. He didn't get elected by being a fool. He's a Dominant and he knows full well what you'll be doing with his son. At least give him the comfort of thinking he's giving his boy to a respectable Dom and not some miscreant that doesn't know how to dress properly when the situation calls for it!" She shoved him to the side. "Move. I'll help you so you don't screw this up."

 _"Fine,"_ snapped Derek as he pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor in a display of petulant temper. Remembering he was bringing home a submissive tonight, he growled low in the back of his throat and picked the shirt up to toss it in the hamper in the corner instead.

Five minutes later Derek found himself dressed in a pair of khaki pants paired with a shoulder-hugging light green sweater that Laura swore brought out his eyes. Not that he cared about such a thing. Not really.

Okay, fine, maybe just a little.

"There," Laura said, sounding satisfied with her efforts. "Now you look a little less like a biker and more like a respectable Dom." She put her hands on her hips and studied him thoughtfully again for a moment. "Don't go anywhere," she ordered as she turned and stepped into his ensuite bathroom, returning quickly and rubbing her hands together. "Now, hold still," she demanded as she reached up and began running her hands through his hair, obviously styling it.

Derek tolerated her ministrations for a moment before snapping, "Hurry up, would you?"

"Anxious, are we?" Laura teased. She stepped back to check out her handiwork and nodded once. "You'll do. I rather wish you'd shaved, but maybe you'll get lucky and Stiles is into the facial scruff." She turned him in the direction of the door and gave him a little shove. "Go now. Don't keep the Alpha waiting. Go get your boy. And leave the leather jacket here."

Derek walked to his door and took a deep, calming breath. He turned and grinned at Laura, unable to resist one final parting shot. "Thanks. Oh, and if you're nice, maybe I won't tell Boyd you think my submissive has a pretty mouth." He closed the door behind him and smirked to himself in satisfaction when he heard Laura yell, "Derek! You wouldn't _dare!_ "

The closer he got to Peter's study, though, the more Derek's grin faded. He shook his head in irritation with himself. It was as though there were dozens of butterflies all aflutter in his stomach and his skin tingled from the tips of his toes to the very roots of his hair. His wolf seemed to be pacing back and forth just under the surface of his skin. It wasn't as though he was afraid of Peter, so Derek couldn't understand why he felt so... _nervous_. What was it about this boy, this _human_ that had him so worked up? Derek was confident in his abilities to dominate and please a submissive. He had been a popular patron of the Sub Club in New York City, where he had been a regular. Word got around that he was a highly desirable Dom and a generous and considerate lover. It was no secret that the club submissives often argued amongst themselves over who got to service him, and several had actually begged him to claim them after their sessions. Whenever that happened, he would gently turn them down and then quietly and discreetly arrange with the club to never be set up with that submissive again.

 _So why was he now as nervous as a fresh faced boy about to try to dominate his first sub?_ he wondered irritably.

Peter smiled smugly at him as he entered the study, doing little to improve Derek's black mood. It was as though the bastard knew of his inner turmoil and was amused by it.

"Oh, come now, Derek, what's with the sour face?" Peter chided. "You're either going to frighten the boy to death or convince him that you're terminally grumpy. I know how charming you're capable of being, put your game face on. Do remember you have a protective father to win over tonight as well."

Derek glared back at his uncle, managing enough control of himself so as to not growl at him in response. "May I remind you that this is all your doing and not my own choice," he snapped.

Peter looked back at him serenely and completely unruffled by his temper. "And may I remind _you_ that when you set eyes on the boy for the first time I could smell the pheromones practically coming off you in waves? Even Erica could tell, though she is far too well mannered to say anything. You can complain and deny all you like, Derek, but that doesn't change the irrefutable fact that you want him. Badly, at that. So cease all this nonsense and kindly remember that, as you are so fond of reminding me, you are, in fact, an adult."

Peter's lecture was interrupted by the intercom unit on his desk buzzing. He leaned forward and pressed the talk button. "Yes?"

"The car you ordered is ready for you, Sir," came the reply.

"Excellent. Thank you, we'll be right there," Peter answered. He turned his gaze back to Derek and narrowed his eyes. "It's time to go, Derek. Think about it; your choices here can insure you future happiness or misery. It would be so much more pleasant if you at least made the attempt to make the best of things. You aren't the only one who'll be affected here."

The ride to the Stilinski house was a quiet one, with Peter casually reading stock reports and Derek staring out the window in pensive silence. It was strange, but it seemed that the closer in proximity to Stiles that he got, the calmer he seemed to feel. As irritating as it was that Peter was yet again right, Derek had to admit to himself that while he still was unable to understand the effect this boy had on him, he _did_ want him. The idea of anyone else claiming him was completely intolerable and made his wolf want to howl with rage. He wanted to possess him, every inch of him. He wanted to see him kneeling at his feet, awaiting his command with breathless anticipation. He wanted to taste the sweetness of those perfect pink lips. He wanted to hear the sounds he would make as he was pushed to the edge and brought back again and again. He wanted to cover his body with his own until he smelled like _Derek's_. He wanted to mark that perfect skin so that there was no question who he belonged to.

He would take his boy out to the finest places, dressed in the best fashions and with both Derek's cuff adorning his wrist and Derek's mark on his neck. He would show him off to the world, to be admired and, yes, _desired_ , but only from a distance, because Derek knew he wouldn't hesitate to swiftly and unmercifully punish any challenge to him from any other Dominant. Did he dare hope for more, hope that his boy would yearn for him in the same way? He wasn't sure yet, but he was keenly aware that there was something about him that was changing Derek, even before they officially met. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

When the car pulled up to the Stilinski house, Derek's initial dread had instead become a sharp sense of nervous anticipation. Tonight he would be bringing his boy home with him, and Derek promised himself he would make things good for him. He was a mature Dom, he could handle a boy entering into his first claim.

He would keep assuring himself of that until it finally sunk in.

The service submissive that was the driver of the car opened the door to let Derek out. He had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that Peter had already gotten out and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for him with an amused expression on his face. Derek scowled at him in response. He followed Peter to the door, breathing quicker as anticipation caused his nerves to go into full on attack mode and the butterflies that had been merely fluttering in his belly earlier returned and began dive bombing instead.

"Relax," whispered Peter as he rang the doorbell. "You're going to end up either vomiting or passing out, neither of which is the first impression you want to make."

Derek didn't say anything in reply, just concentrated on regulating his heartbeat to a normal level and took a brief moment to thank providence that humans couldn't hear or smell emotions like wolves did. He could hear footsteps approaching from inside the house and swallowed heavily to force back the nervousness threatening his composure.

_This was it. This was actually happening._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can be found at [my Tumblr](http://ittlebitz.tumblr.com) and I am currently in heavy Teen Wolf mode. Come play!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **First, I want to apologize for how long it took to update this. I struggled with writing this chapter and I lost count of the number of times I started, stopped, deleted, rewrote, cried...you get the idea. I hoped to get this posted sooner, but it needed some serious polishing up before it was ready. Also, many of you may know that I am also in the Glee fandom and we suffered a devastating blow this week when Cory Monteith was found dead, so writing took a back seat while my Glee family and I grieved together. Thank you all for your patience.**   
>  **Thanks goes to my darling beta[Sies](http://anderson--hummel.tumblr.com) for doing her part in trying to keep me honest with POV changes and the like and for popping my hands when I needed it. Thanks also go to my beloved [Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com) for cheerleading, talking me down from the ledge, reading over and making suggestions, talking me down from the ledge again, helping me figure my way out of a wet paper bag by giving implicit instructions, once again talking me down from the ledge, and for reminding me to have fun and for god's sake, get off the ledge...**
> 
> * * *

Derek swallowed heavily as the door swung open. Even though it had been several years since since he'd last seen him in person Derek instantly recognized Maksym Stilinski. The Sheriff's gentleness and understanding in the days immediately following the fire, coupled with the integral part he had played in Kate's prosecution had left a favorable impression on all the remaining members of the Hale family, and Derek suddenly found himself wishing that he'd taken the time back then to express his gratitude.

Now that they were meeting again under much different circumstances Derek wanted to prove to Makysm that he was no longer the broken boy that no doubt lived in Maksym's memories, but a fully competent Dom capable of providing and caring for a submissive. The fact that the submissive in question happened to be Maksym's own son and just happened to be in possession of the most sinful mouth that Derek had ever seen was merely extra motivation for Derek to make a favorable impression.

"Maks!" exclaimed Peter jovially, holding out a hand and greeting Maksym as if they were old friends who had happened to run into one another in the frozen food section of the grocery store as opposed to the head of their households sitting down to discuss a contract that would alter the course of all their lives.

Maksym Stilinski took the proffered hand and shook it. "Good to see you again, Peter," he replied. His gaze moved to Derek and he eyed him shrewdly before holding his hand out to him, "And here's Derek, all grown up now. Welcome back."

"Thank you Sheriff," Derek said politely as they shook hands. It didn't escape him that Maksym's grip was just bit tighter and he held on just a tad longer than strictly necessary or that his pale green eyes seemed to look right through him, the calculating assessment leaving Derek with the vaguely horrifying thought Maksym was aware of each and every impure thought Derek had already had about his son.

"Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable." Maksym said as they entered into the pleasantly worn looking living room. He motioned to the couch, indicating for them to sit.

Peter sat easily, leaning back comfortably, while Derek bypassed the couch altogether in favor of the plush armchair recliner that smelled strongly of Maksym. He fought back a smirk as Maksym narrowed his eyes at him speculatively from across the room. Peter looked as though he was fighting back laughter, making Derek contemplate sprinkling wolfsbane powder in his silk robe later as revenge for this whole situation.

"The steaks are ready. Stiles is putting the finishing touches on everything and he'll call us when it's time to eat," Maksym said. "I made two of them rare, if that's okay. If it isn't, I still probably have time to cook them longer."

"No, no, rare is perfect, isn't it Derek?" Peter assured, not waiting for Derek's nod of agreement as he sniffed the air appreciatively. "Dinner smells good, Maksym. I haven't had a good steak in quite some time so this will be a pleasure. Is that chocolate cake I smell baking?"

"Yes. Stiles decided to make his mother's chocolate lava cakes for dessert. It was always a favorite recipe of his," Maks said conversationally as he walked to a small wine cabinet. "Wine? I've got a nice Cabernet Sauvignon that will go nicely with dinner."

Peter nodded. "Please. I do enjoy a good Cabernet. Derek?"

Derek shook his head. "None for me, thanks."

Maks studied him for a moment. Derek knew by the look on the man's face that whatever was coming next was going to a be a test of some sort, and a moment later he was proven right. "It's okay, Derek. I promise you it's safe. The only thing I have laced with wolfsbane is my special cache of bullets, just in case they're ever needed." He poured a glass and held it out, looking steadily at Derek.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Derek accepted the glass of wine from Maksym. He took a leisurely sip, not breaking eye contact, slowly licking the wine from his lips and savoring the taste before giving Maksym a wolfish grin that was more a baring of teeth than a smile. "I hope you're a quick draw, then, Sheriff. Bullets only help when you get the chance to fire them." He lifted the glass in mock salute before shooting a scowl in Peter's direction, letting him know he hadn't missed the hastily smothered snort of laughter.

Screw wolfsbane in Peter's robe, Derek was going to dust the entire contents of his underwear drawer. The bastard was enjoying this far too much.

To Derek's relief, Maksym's lips quirked up in a small smile and he nodded. "Yes, you'll do just fine." He poured himself a glass of the rich wine and sat on the smaller sofa that matched the couch. "I spoke to Stiles," he said, looking at Derek first and then Peter, "He says he'll agree to the claim."

Derek felt a tension he hadn't realized he had inside him relax at Maksym's words. Peter had been right; despite all of his reluctance to take on a submissive, he couldn't deny that he _wanted_ this one more than anything he'd ever wanted before, nor could he explain why since he didn't know himself. All he knew was that no matter how much he desired Stiles, no matter how much his wolf _demanded_ him, had Stiles refused their offer, Derek would have had no choice but to deal with it. It would have been torture. His wolf paced restlessly just below the surface of his skin, which agitated him even more.

He was torn between the conflicting desires to impress Stiles' father and leaving the two older Doms to find the boy that now belonged to him and claim him. He was suddenly taken with a fierce need to see his new submissive, to speak to him and gaze into those magnificent eyes. Derek squirmed in his seat, feeling ridiculously like a teenager with a crush, impatient to be in the presence of his heart's desire.

Maksym looked at him steadily over the rim of his wineglass as he calmly took a sip of his wine, taking a moment to appreciate the flavor before swallowing it down. He chuckled as he leaned back, settling comfortably into his seat. "Stiles is in the kitchen, if you'd like to go say hello," he said, gesturing toward the vicinity of the kitchen with his wineglass.

Derek blinked at him for a moment before he realized that he had finally been given permission by Stiles' dad, his _Dom,_ to approach him. It was all he needed to hear. Derek rose gracefully to his feet, determined to remain cool and not appear too eager. After all, in just a short time _he_ would be the Dom calling the shots when it came to Stiles, and he felt like that was understood now. "Thank you, Sheriff," he said.

Maksym inclined his head. "Let's dispense with the formalities, shall we? I think at this point you can call me Maks. The kitchen is back and to your right."

"Okay, then. Thank you, Maks," Derek agreed with a slight smile. He knew Maks was trying to set him at ease and thought maybe he hadn't been quite as successful at hiding his nerves as he'd hoped. Reminding himself once again that he was an experienced Dominant, he straightened his shoulders and made his way in the direction Maks had indicated.

As he exited the living room Derek was so focused on spending time with Stiles that he failed to pay any attention to the Doms he'd left behind, completely missing when Maks leaned over into Peter's personal space and demanded in a furious whisper, "Have you told Derek the Argents are back?"

* * *

Stiles puttered nervously around the kitchen. He had been tasked with finishing the last minute dinner preparations while his father went into the living room to prepare for the arrival of their guests. Stiles was grateful for the distraction since the busy work since having to something focus on kept his anxiety at bay. Stiles had readied the potatoes, piling the foil wrapped spuds high on a plate so they were ready to be served, set the table with his mother's good dishes and silverware, even going so far as to pull out linen napkins and fold them into elegant swans. The salad and been prepped and placed onto the table alongside his homemade balsamic vinaigrette dressing in its glass cruet, and the sour cream, shredded cheese and crumbled bacon had been placed in the condiment bowls. Warm rolls had been placed in the breadbasket, a new stick of butter adorned the porcelain dish in the middle of the table and his father had the steaks ready on a large serving platter.

The cakes were nearly done and kitchen filled with the heavenly scent of chocolate as Stiles chewed nervously on a thumbnail, keeping on eye on the timer and an ear out for the arrival of their guests. When he finally heard voices in the living room he felt a sharp twist in his stomach and his heart began to race.

"It's okay, Stiles," he coached himself aloud. "You've been waiting for this day to come, no need to freak out. Even if your Dom happens to be incredibly hot. Smokin' hot, even. Sex on legs. Oh, god, sex, you're going to be _having sex_ with a guy that looks like _that_ and Jesus, how is this even my life?"

Stiles gasped as he grabbed the countertop with both hands and squeezed down hard enough to make his fingers ache. The dull pain brought him back down and he could feel the brief panic begin to recede

"There you go, man, you got this," Stiles congratulated himself as his breathing returned to normal. The timer on the stove dinged, signaling that the lava cakes were ready. Stiles grabbed a potholder and opened the oven, letting the warm chocolaty scent waft over him as he leaned down and sniffed appreciatively. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the shadow in the doorway.

"Perfect every time," Stiles said happily, carefully pulling out the cookie sheet with the ramekins on it to place it on the stove top and completely unaware that he had an audience. He left the pans in the stove to cool and went to the cabinet to grab the powdered sugar the cakes would be dusted with before they were served. He then went to the refrigerator and pulled out a container of raspberries and placed them on the counter. After thinking about it for a moment he went back to the fridge and pulled out a container of strawberries and set them down next to the raspberries, contemplating them both. "One of you is going to be sacrificed to the pagan god of Lava Cake, which one will it be?" Stiles mused.

"I like strawberries," said a low, gruff voice behind him.

Stiles startled at the deep, rich voice coming from behind him and accidentally brushed his forearm against one of the hot ramekins resulting in a small burn. He yelped in pain and dashed to the sink to run cold water over the gradually reddening spot. Stiles froze when Derek joined him at the sink and gently took his arm to inspect the burn.

"Are you alright?" Derek asked.

Stiles gaped at him for another moment before regaining his wits. He hastily pulled his arm out of Derek's loose grasp and stepped back. "Dude! Not cool to sneak up on me like that! Creep much?" he snapped, flinging his arm in emphasis and wincing when it tugged the burned area. He nearly cringed when Derek raised a brow at him and took his arm again to take a closer look at the smarting injury. 

"Are you alright," Derek repeated, the concern in his voice wrapping Stiles in a pleasant cocoon of warmth.

"I-It's nothing. I can totally rub some dirt on it and walk it off," Stiles tried joking but the pained whimper that escaped his lips when Derek pressed down on a particularly tender spot ruined the illusion of bravado.

Stiles saw Derek's mouth tighten into a disapproving line and then the Dom placed two fingers under his chin, forcing Stiles to meet the Dom's eyes. "Can you hold still for me?" Derek asked quietly.

Even though Derek hadn't given him a direct order and been careful not to let command enter his voice, Stiles felt an overwhelming desire to do as Derek had asked and found himself nodding his acquiescence as he stared into his Dom's eyes.

His Dom was even better looking up close. Strong brows topped green eyes that were trimmed with long lashes that could hardly be legal. His cheeks were covered with a heavy stubble that Stiles found himself wanting to rub his own face against, to feel the prickle and burn it would cause as it passed over his skin. Derek's lips were a dark pink, and Stiles realized belatedly that they were moving as Derek spoke to him.

"You should be more careful," Derek scolded lightly. "Your well being is important to me. I don't like seeing you get hurt."

Stiles' cheeks heated in a dark flush as he dropped his gaze to the floor. _Crap_. Not even officially claimed and already he's screwing up and disappointing his Dom. He was surprised at how much he already wanted to please Derek, to show him how well he could obey and submit, be a good boy, _his_ good boy. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said in a near whisper, the title slipping out without his realization. "I didn't mean to. But in my defense, I only hurt myself because you startled me. I didn't know you were there."

"I apologize. It wasn't my intention to frighten you," Derek murmured as he gently covered the red welt on Stiles' arm with his palm.

"That's o-hey, what are you doing?" Stiles asked, instinctively trying to pull away but getting distracted instead by the warm tingle that had nothing to do with the burn. He watched in fascination as small black lines appeared on Derek's hand. The stinging ache began to dissipate as it was replaced with a euphoric sensation that rushed through him, flooding his entire body in a wave that warmed and cooled him simultaneously. Stiles felt himself smiling foolishly. He felt awesome. _Better_ than awesome. This was the best thing _ever_ in the history of best things, way better than that one time he and Scott swiped a bottle of his Dad's liquor when Scott had been depressed because he was sure Allison would never claim him since she was a hunter and he was a werewolf. Stiles had gotten cataclysmically wasted, which had been totally fantastic until the next morning when his body rebelled and tried to turn itself inside out. Scott, that asshole, had been perfectly fine because it turned out werewolves couldn't get drunk on regular booze.

"I'm taking away your pain," Derek explained, keeping his hand firmly in place and concentrating on drawing out the pain and replacing it with healing energy.

"Huh," mused Stiles dreamily, caught up in the endorphin-like haze of the pain exchange. "Can _any_ werewolf do that? Because I'll be pissed if Scott's been holding out on me and he could've been doing the touchy-takey-away-the-pain thing all this time. Or is this something only Dominant wolves can do? Can you do it in other ways?"

"Other ways?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, like can you do it with your mouth maybe?" Stiles asked blissfully before he realized what he was saying and stopped, looking momentarily horrified at himself. "I mean, not that what you're doing is bad, because, hey, no complaints about magic fingers, like _at all_ , and a little pain isn't necessarily a _bad_ thing, and oh my _god_ ," he groaned as he realized how his last sentence could be interpreted.

Derek's mouth lifted at one corner in a half grin. "Are you asking me to kiss it and make it better?"

Stiles' eyes widened and looked panicked for a brief moment. "No! Yes? I mean, well, I _might_ be, if it were okay, maybe, and- _ohhhhhhhh, my god_..." he trailed off as Derek's grin became predatory.

* * *

Derek had been taken aback initially by how bold Stiles appeared to be but then again considering the first time he had ever met him the boy had sassed Peter, perhaps he shouldn't have been.

It hadn't been Derek's intention to startle Stiles but when he'd walked into the kitchen and found the boy so engrossed in his dinner preparations he had wanted to take advantage of the opportunity observe the young man that would be his submissive. He had been amused and rather entranced with watching and listening to his boy chat with himself about fruit.

When Stiles had burned himself Derek had been overcome with an intense need to help. His dominant instincts had taken over to where all he could focus on was the fact that his submissive was in pain, and the thought of Stiles suffering was simply intolerable.

Derek had wanted nothing more than to order Stiles to stand still and allow Derek to tend to him but he knew that it would be both poor form and a violation of trust to dominate Stiles outside of their claim, so he had been careful keep command out of his voice and make sure that Stiles knew that he was given a choice of whether or not to comply and not an order he had no other recourse but to obey.

When Stiles had let the title of "Sir" slip from his lips it had almost been Derek's undoing. His control had been further tested when Stiles had placed himself in Derek's hands and allowed Derek to leach his pain. Stiles staring at him, those perfect pink lips parted ever so slightly, perfect trust and the promise of complete submission shining in his eyes had pushed Derek ever closer to the edge. He had been mesmerized by the warm brown of Stiles' eyes and found himself helpless against his need to lean closer and breathe in the boy's scent. All of his senses had exploded as Stiles' scent washed over him, filling his nostrils with the clean smell of soap combined with an underlying essence of fresh fallen rain in the forest that Derek knew would be unique to Stiles. He felt it tickling his skin and could taste it on his tongue. It was as though it had entered his bloodstream and spread throughout his body, saturating him from the inside out, intoxicating him fully.

He'd been startled to feel the telltale stinging sensation in his gums as his fangs had threatened to drop and the tightening in his fingertips as his claws had begun to form.

The partial shift had been enough to shock Derek back into some semblance of control. He hadn't had an involuntary shift since he had gone through puberty and the fact that he'd experienced one at the first scent of his submissive shook him to the core. That Stiles could unwittingly elicit such a strong response from both Derek and his wolf had him had been unexpected.

Derek probably would have been able to steady his heartbeat, will his fangs back into relaxation and walk away while still firmly on the right side of the line of propriety, but Stiles' remark about other ways to draw out pain proved his undoing.

If his boy wanted him to kiss it and make it better, then who was Derek to refuse him?

Derek lifted Stiles' arm slightly as he bent over to slowly trace his lips over the fading burn. "Is this what you want?" he teased, feeling inordinately pleased when he heard Stiles' breath hitch. He felt Stiles tremble and heard the rabbit fast, rapid beat of his heart. His hold on Stiles was loose, allowing him an escape if he wanted it, but Derek knew, they _both_ knew Stiles wanted no such thing. There was no scent of fear coming from his boy. Derek could smell his nervousness and confusion but was delighted to also smell the keen interest mixed with the faint underlying scent of arousal that had been emanating from Stiles from the moment they touched and was steadily growing stronger. Stiles melted and relaxed into the sensations and Derek thrilled at how responsive Stiles was to his touch, creating pictures in his mind's eye of how much they'd both enjoy just how receptive to Derek Stiles seemed to be.

Derek peeked at Stiles from beneath his lashes as his tongue darted out to trace the fading burn on Stiles's arm. He smirked when Stiles swallowed a moan and bit down on his bottom lip. "Nuh uh," Derek said, taking his thumb and gently removing Stiles's lip from in between his teeth. "Let me hear you. Don't be afraid to tell me what you want," he purred encouragingly as his entire body thrummed with confident dominance and desire.

It hadn't been an order but Stiles responded beautifully, his eyelashes fluttering shut and his lips parting on a soft whimper of submission that went straight to Derek's cock. Derek felt Stiles shiver when he scraped his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin but he was wholly unprepared for the boy to tip his head ever so slightly to one side, baring just a hint of the vulnerable curve of his neck to the Dom.

Derek felt a low growl rumble deep in the back of his throat as his wolf responded on the most primal level. Did Stiles even realize what he was doing, offering his neck like that? Did he have any clue what he was doing to him? It would be so easy to take what was being offered to him. He felt his fangs growing again and his vision swam for a mere breadth of a second before sharpening and he knew his eyes were glowing. He leaned forward and slowly and tantalizingly ran his nose up the curve of Stiles' neck, paying special attention to a spot just behind his ear that seemed particularly sensitive, taking mental note of the goosebumps that Stiles got in response before retracing his way back down, scraping his cheek lightly against warm, soft skin, his wolf rumbling in satisfaction now that Stiles smelled like a mixture of both their scents. He felt Stiles quiver in response, his low gasp audible to his sensitized hearing, and wanted to howl his triumph.

"Well, now, isn't this simply adorable? How very interesting," an amused voice drawled from the doorway.

Derek whipped around with a snarl, his face transforming as he pushed Stiles back to stand protectively in front of him. Reacting on pure instinct, he bared his teeth and flashed his eyes at his uncle.

"Oh, do relax, Derek. You've nothing to be worried about from me," Peter said with a grin, not batting an eyelash at his nephew's ire. "Not that it hasn't been delightfully diverting, but I believe Maks gave you permission to come and say hello to Stiles, not rub yourself all over the poor boy like a Were in heat. It's probably a good thing he can't hear or smell what's been going on in here."

Derek knew that technically his uncle was right, but damn the man for enjoying it so much. He snarled at him again, just on general principle but found himself on the receiving end of his Alpha's ire.

"Careful now, remember your place," Peter admonished with false gentleness as he let the Alpha red bleed into his eyes. "Get yourself under control. Remember that Maks doesn't have to let you have Stiles tonight, seeing as we don't meet with the magistrate until tomorrow."

The combination of the rebuke and the reminder was enough to have Derek shifted from his Beta from back into his human features.

His uncle nodded his approval just as Maks walked into the kitchen.

"Are we ready to eat, Stiles?" Maks asked.

Derek groaned internally as he realized what the scene must look like from the older Dom's point of view: Derek and Peter facing each other down with a slightly flushed, obviously flustered Stiles tightly pressed between Derek's back and the kitchen counter.

"Is there a problem?" Maksym questioned warily, frowning in concern.

"No sir," Derek answered calmly.

"I believe I was asking Stiles," Maksym stated, peering around Derek and making eye contact with his son.

Stiles stepped from behind Derek and instantly the werewolf wanted to drag him back.

"Dad! Hey! No, nope, everything's great, hunky dory, peachy keen, nothing to be seen here, why don't we get that dinner going. Let me go fix the plates, you know, salad in the bowls and potatoes ready to eat. You already showed me which steaks were the rare ones. When you come in, I'll get you seated and we can get started, okay? Give me five minutes." Derek winced as he heard the slightly breathy, overly bright tone in which Stiles answered his father before beating a hasty retreat out of the room. If the man hadn't been suspicious before he sure as hell would be now.

Derek could tell by the narrowing of the Sheriff's eyes that he wasn't entirely buying what Stiles was selling, but thankfully the man decided to let it go.

"This way gentlemen," Maksym said as he led the way into the dining room. Derek followed, hoping that he would manage to make it through dinner without either killing his uncle or throwing Stiles down and mounting him on the dining room table.

* * *

Derek entered the dining room and watched as Maksym took his place at the head of the table. He waited patiently as Stiles showed Peter to the chair opposite of Maks' and then led Derek to the chair placed across from his own. Once the two werewolves were seated, Maksym nodded his permission for Stiles to stand next to his own chair before formally addressing Derek and his uncle.

"Alpha Hale," Maksym intoned respectfully, "Dom Derek Hale, you are both welcome to our home. I'm pleased to have you join us in fellowship for dinner before I let my son go with you in agreement to a claim between him and Derek. As is custom, I've had Stiles prepare the plates already. He will continue to serve us as needed during dinner, but as you can tell, I don't make him kneel at meal time."

"That won't be an issue," Derek assured Maksym. There were most definitely times and places he would have Stiles on his knees, but during meals would not be among them. He would have preferred sitting next to Stiles, rather than across from him, but he would comply with the arrangement Maks had set up. "I know some dominants insist on the more old fashioned notion of their submissives kneeling at all times, but my family has never kept with that custom. Peter doesn't make his subs kneel at meals and I have no plans to require Stiles to, either."

Maksym nodded his head once and the relief etched across his face made Derek hopeful that the man was gaining confidence in the claim and growing more secure with the idea of entrusting Stiles to Derek.

"Thank you. I'm glad to know that, actually," Maks said, his voice drawing Derek out of his thoughts. "There are those who would call me liberal in my upbringing of my son, but it's been just the two of us since he was eight. It wasn't always easy for me to raise a submissive son on my own without his mother to counterbalance, so I'm aware that some are of the opinion that Stiles is maybe a bit on the willful side at times. We can discuss things further while we eat, though. Stiles, you can sit down." Derek watched with sharp eyes as the man reached out and gave his son an encouraging squeeze to his neck and sat down, Stiles quickly taking his seat after his father had settled.

Derek had known from his previous dealings with Maksym that the man was compassionate and fair but seeing in his own home, with his own submissive son had only deepened Derek's respect for him. Derek had no doubt that were a great many men in Maksym's place that wouldn't have had the patience or the inclination to be a single parent to a submissive, but Maksym had risen to the challenge and Stiles seemed to have thrived under his father's care.

Peter and Maksym made small talk but Derek hardly registered their voices. He was so focused on Stiles that it took him several moments to realize that Maks had been speaking to him.

"I'm sorry, Maks, would you mind repeating that?" Derek asked.

"You seem a bit distracted, son. I asked if everything was to your liking. Do you need anything? Steak sauce or something?" Maksym explained.

As Stiles jumped up from the table, presumably to go into the kitchen to get the steak sauce Derek hurried to reassure him. "No, it's okay, I don't need any," said Derek quickly. He didn't want Stiles leaving his sight. It was far too easy to get distracted by those long fingers and what they might be capable of doing, or of that flawless neck that begged for him to mark it. Seeing the pink skin where he had rubbed his face against it only made him want to do it more.

"I'm fine as well, thank you," Peter put in, as he popped a bite of steak in his mouth and chewed, the barely contained glee on his face making it plain to Derek that his uncle was enjoying the scene immensely.

"It's no problem, I assure you. Stiles can easily grab the A-1 from the refrigerator," Maks said with a genial smile.

Stiles was halfway out of his seat when Derek halted him again. "No, Stiles, it's okay, I don't want any." Stiles froze, the indecision written plain as day across his face. Derek suddenly realized it had to be confusing for his young submissive to get conflicting information between his father, who had always been his Dom, and Derek, who was about to be his Dom in his first claim, and decided he needed to take charge of the situation so that Stiles could be set at ease. He took a calming breath and then smiled in apology. "I wasn't intending to slight this excellent meal, I promise. I was just lost in thought. I don't eat sauce on my steak so there's no need to trouble yourself on my account." To his relief, Stiles sat back down. He tried to ignore the knowing look Maksym was giving him but felt his ears burning and was sure they were red.

Things settled after that and Peter and Maksym chatted about the latest developments in a murder case involving a famous athlete while Derek and Stiles snuck glances back and forth across the table. Even though the meal was excellent, Derek spent most of his time pushing food around his plate, utterly distracted the sight of Stiles' pink lips wrapping around his fork each time he took a bite or how he kept looking at him from beneath lush lashes. When Stiles began fidgeting with his fork, running his fingers along the handle in a way that was practically obscene, Derek nearly groaned out loud. He grimly swore to himself that if he survived this dinner without somehow embarrassing himself, he would consider it a triumph.

As dinner came to a close Stiles sought permission from his father to serve the dessert. After disappearing into the kitchen for a few moments Stiles came back into the dining room with the lava cakes. Derek hid a smile and felt a warm frisson of pleasure go through him when he realized that Stiles had taken his tastes into consideration and chosen to decorate the tops of the decadent looking cakes with ripe strawberries.

Custom dictated that Stiles was to serve the agent of his Dom first. Derek watched as Stiles took the first plate to Peter, dropping to his knees next to his uncle and presenting the plate to him. "With your permission, Alpha."

Peter nodded and accepted the plate. "Thank you. That's a good boy," Peter praised, grinning and giving the boy a quick rub of approval on his neck. Derek stiffened and barely resisted the urge to growl. He knew what the custom was, but seeing his submissive kneeling for another Dom didn't sit well with him regardless, especially when the Dom in question was his uncle. He knew that Peter was merely making mischief, but the idea of another dominant touching Stiles raised the hackles of his wolf and stretched the tethers of his control. Only the fact that Stiles' father was sitting there kept him in his seat. He didn't want Maks terminating the claim before they even got to start it because he was concerned he might be giving his son into the care of a lunatic with anger management issues. Lashing out at Peter like that might also frighten Stiles and the last thing he wanted was for the boy to fear him. Derek grit his teeth and gave his unrepentant uncle a look that promised retribution at another time.

The next person to be served as per custom was the dominant parent of the submissive. Stiles dropped to his knees next to his father and presented the plate of cake to him. "With your permission, Dad."

Derek felt the man's pride as Maks smiled and accepted the plate from his son. "Thank you, Stiles. You did well, son."

It was now time for the submissive to serve his Dom. Derek noted the small shake in his hands as Stiles removed the plate from the sideboard and made his way over to Derek. He heard Stiles' heartbeat ratchet up as he knelt by his side and saw the quick flash of his tongue as it darted out to lick over soft pink lips. "With your permission, Sir," Stiles said as he presented the plate to Derek.

Derek took the plate from Stiles and placed it on the table. Unable to keep his hands off his submissive for any longer, he ran a gentle hand through Stiles' hair to rest at the base of his neck and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Stiles' and breathing deeply of his scent once again. "Good boy," he whispered.

Derek smiled in satisfaction as he heard the small hitch in Stiles's breath and saw the warm flush on his skin indicating his pleasure at receiving the touch and praise of his Dom. His long lashes swept over his cheekbones as they fluttered shut and Derek sat transfixed by the sight. They sat there like that for a moment, caught up in a world that consisted only of the two of them and completely unaware of their surroundings.

And then Peter, because _of course_ it was Peter, shattered the moment.

"Ahhh, first claims. There's just something magical about them, isn't there?" he chuckled.

Stiles' eyes flew open and he jerked backwards, nearly falling on his ass. Derek reached out a hand to steady him and glared daggers at Peter. As annoyed as he was with his uncle he couldn't help but be charmed by the adorable blush that stained Stiles's cheeks and wonder just how far down the delicate pink flush went.

Custom dictated that the dominants not eat until the submissive had been seated so once Stiles got his plate and joined them at the table everyone took up their forks.

"Oh, my god, Stiles, this is incredible," moaned Peter around a forkful of warm lava cake. "You'll have to make this for us again."

Derek's exasperation with his uncle's antics were cut short at the sight of Stiles beaming from the praise.

"That would _so_ not be a problem," he heard Stiles answer his uncle. " This is one of my favorite things to make and eat." Derek smiled as Stiles looked hungrily at his cake and licked his lips with relish. "Mmmmmmm. Come on, gorgeous, get in me!"

Derek nearly choked on his intake of air. _Christ_ , this boy was going to kill him, and he didn't even seem realize he was doing it. He heard Peter snicker softly and managed not to throw his fork at his head, instead using it to cut into the cake. The mouth watering aroma of warm chocolate grew stronger as the gooey center began to ooze out. Derek took a bite and closed his eyes. The cake melted in his mouth with a velvety smooth explosion that circled his tongue like a silk scarf and danced over his taste buds like musical notes.

_Holy mother of god._

"So," said Maksym as they were savoring the last of the rich dessert, "I think it's time we address the issue at hand. Does anyone want coffee or anything before we start?" Derek and Peter both declined and Maks nodded. "Okay then. As I mentioned earlier, I've spoken to Stiles about your interest in a claim between him and Derek. Stiles has agreed to enter into this claim, and I am giving my permission. I do, however, have some conditions."

Derek quirked an eyebrow and noted that Stiles seemed to be taken aback by the mention of any conditions being placed on their claim. While it wasn't unusual for provincial claims to have stipulations, typically they were included as part of the contract. Derek was intrigued as to what amendments Maksym might want to make on their claim that he hadn't gone over with his son first.

"What would those conditions be?" Derek asked quietly.

"First of all, I believe I've mentioned that Stiles is all I have," Maks began, answering Derek. "His upbringing might have been a bit unconventional at times, but he's smart and quick. He takes medication for ADD to help him focus, but it's not always that easy. He also has a tendency towards stubbornness and can be mouthy. I know that punishment and reward is an important part of a claim, but I don't want my son injured. If the urge to kill him becomes a regular thing, I want him back. No questions asked."

"I assure you rumors of Derek's homicidal tendencies have been greatly exaggerated," Peter said smoothly. "Also it does bear mentioning that Stiles is our top submissive student. I have every confidence that he'll do just fine. And if he gives Derek a run for his money, all the better. Builds character." Peter smirked at Derek from across the table and Derek stifled the urge to stab his Alpha with his dessert fork.

"I understand that. I also understand that humans don't have the supernatural strength and healing ability of werewolves. I'm looking out for the well being of my son," Maksym said firmly.

Peter started to say something but Derek cut him off. He was plenty capable of speaking on his own behalf. "You have my word, Dom Stilinski. I don't foresee any problem, but I agree to your request. I also want you to know that harming Stiles is the last thing I want to do. We Hales don't have the reputation of being submissive abusers."

Maks cleared his throat pointedly. "Understand I mean no offense. My son's well being is my top priority."

"And now it's mine," stated Derek, matching Maksym in his intensity.

"That's what I needed to know," Maks said approvingly, then continued, "Now, the only other condition I have on this claim is no cubs. Not unless you make this a permanent claim and even then not until he's older."

Derek's eyes grew wide at the bold declaration but before he could gather his wits Stiles reacted.

 _"Da-a-a-ad!"_ squawked Stiles, throwing both arms up to grab his head in embarrassment. "How much whiskey did you have before dinner? We're both guys! That's not possible!" He paused and then looked at the two wolves suspiciously. "Is it?"

Derek couldn't find his voice but Peter apparently had no such problem. "I can see we need to enroll you in a werewolf claim class at school," he chuckled before turning serious. "To answer your question, Stiles, there actually _are_ documented cases of male couples procreating. It's extremely rare, but it _has_ happened. The good news is that it has yet to happen in a wolf/human couple. So far it appears that human males aren't carriers, but I assure you, we are able to take preventative measures that won't affect you in the slightest. We take the same precautions with every provisional claim as humans do, and my family is no exception." Having stunned Stiles into silence, Peter turned to Maks. "You have the word of the Alpha, Maks."

"Thank you," replied Maks with an incline of his head. "I don't believe I have any other concerns at this time." He breathed out a heavy breath, and then stood, followed by Peter and Derek.

In accordance with custom, Peter spoke first. "Dom Maksym Stilinski, as Alpha of the Hale pack, I present my nephew, Dom Derek Hale, and I am here as his agent. In accordance to the law, we formally make an offer for Derek to claim your son as his submissive in a provincial claim with all the regulations that go with it, which will be discussed in full at time of register. We agree to your conditions. If you are agreeable, then we will meet with the magistrate at the time of your choosing to legally register this claim. I also respectfully remind you that as per our previous conversation, we would like permission to have him return to our residence tonight so as to get him accustomed to our household."

Derek could tell by the stunned look on his face that his submissive had been unaware that he'd be leaving so soon. He tried to give Stiles a supportive smile but wasn't sure it registered with the flustered young man.

Maksym must have sensed his son's surprise as well, because when he spoke next Derek noticed that the older Dom had a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "As dominant and only living parent of submissive Aurélien Stilinski, called Stiles by his request and my permission, I give my approval for Dom Derek Hale to claim my son as his submissive in a provincial claim. As is decreed by law, my son has been applied to for his agreement to enter this claim, and he has done so of his own free will. I hereby request the presence of the Alpha, Dom Peter Hale, and his nephew, Dom Derek Hale, to join me at the magistrate tomorrow evening at 5:30 to register this claim and make it legal. As agreed to in prior communication with the Alpha, I consent to let my son go to the Hale household tonight in order to try to make his transition as a member of the household as easy and smooth as possible."

Derek released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding at Maksym's words. It was done, then. Stiles was his and he would be taking him home tonight. A prickle of something that felt almost like utter happiness built up in his chest until he felt nearly lightheaded with it.

"Stiles," Derek said gently. "Go get what you'll need to get you through the night, and this weekend we'll work on getting you packed and moved. I know that this must seem like it's moving incredibly fast for you and that things are a little confusing right now but I promise you, things are going to be just fine."

Stiles gave Derek a shaky attempt at a smile before shooting a quick, nervous glance at his father. "Wow. Okay, tonight then," the boy said. He paused and motioned to the table. "Shouldn't I clear the dishes and clean up first?"

Derek's eyes slid to Maks, knowing that it was his father's reassurance Stiles needed. Maks shook his head. "I know you normally take care of clean up, but not this time. I've got it, you go do as Derek said so that you can get to your new digs and start getting acclimated."

Derek reluctantly watched Stiles turn and walk towards the stairs. Without thinking, he called out, "Do you need any help?"

Stiles looked back and Derek ached to take the pads of his fingers and smooth away each and every anxious line he saw on his boy's face. When Stiles declined his help and thudded up the stairs Derek swore he could feel the growing distance between them like a physical discomfort in his chest. Strange, especially since they weren't officially claimed yet.

* * *

Stiles shut the door to his room quietly behind him and leaned heavily against it, gasping in a deep breath before sliding bonelessly to the floor. His chest had just started aching and he rubbed at it absentmindedly while his thoughts raced through his head. So he would be leaving his home tonight, not tomorrow after meeting the magistrate. Instead of going to sleep in his own bed one last time, maybe enjoying a little Stiles time and jerking off to thoughts of his hot Dom before succumbing to dreamland, he would actually be in a bed _with_ his hot Dom.

Jesus Christ.

He would not have a panic attack right now. He would _not._

Grabbing his phone, Stiles tapped out a text to Scott.

**I may or may not be freaking out right now**

**_What's wrong? : /_ **

**Looks like I've got myself a hot Dom**

**_That's awesome, dude! Congrats! Why the freak out? Did something go wrong?_ **

**Not exactly, more like oh yeah, hey Stiles, by the way, you're going home** **with the big bad wolves tonight. Have a great night!**

**_Lol, your dad said that?_ **

**Not funny, dude, I am dead serious. The legal claiming with the magistrate is tomorrow but I'm supposed to be packing right now for my first grown up slumber party. This is NOT a drill!**

**_But what's wrong? Are you afraid of him? Don't be._ **

Stiles stopped to think. _Was_ he afraid of Derek? He hadn't given him any reason to be scared, had he?

**No, I'm NOT afraid of him.**

Except maybe he was. Maybe he was afraid of how Derek already made him feel. Maybe he was afraid of not being a good enough submissive. Fantasy was one thing, reality was altogether different, and going home with his Dom tonight was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

**_I can hear your brain working from here. Just relax and let yourself enjoy it, okay? Enjoy being taken care of by your Dom. Everything's gonna be ok!_ **

**Sure thing. Gotta go, they're waiting for me. I'll see you tomorrow.**

Stiles puffed out his cheeks with a deep sigh as he drug an old duffel bag out of his closet. He quickly packed clothes for school tomorrow along with a pair of comfortable flannel pajama pants and an old Sacramento State t-shirt that had been his Dad's back in the day and was faded and soft from repeat washings over the years, perfect for sleeping in. Unless, of course, Derek didn't allow him to wear clothes to bed. Stiles shrugged and packed the clothes anyway. Better to be prepared. Clean underwear and socks were tossed in on top of that. A quick run across the hallway to the bathroom to gather together his toiletries came next. He packed his laptop in its bag and made sure to toss his phone charger in as well. He started to zip the bag closed but stopped to pack his bottle of Adderal. His pillow was the last thing he grabbed. He was sure Derek had plenty of pillows, but he still wanted his own. That way if he drooled in his sleep or anything it wouldn't be quite as embarrassing.

Stiles looked over his room to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. It was a bittersweet moment. His room looked a little forlorn already, and he had only packed an overnight bag, for crying out loud. He was not going to get emotional over his bedroom. There was always moving out for that. Heaving one last sigh, Stiles shouldered his duffel bag and computer bag on one shoulder and grabbed his backpack and lacrosse bag as well before stuffing his pillow under one arm. He managed to make it down the stairs without wiping out and injuring himself or breaking anything. When he stumbled into the living room, Peter and Derek were standing by the door with his dad.

His dad gave him a smile of encouragement that held a hint of sadness. "Got everything you'll need for the night?"

Stiles nodded breathlessly. The weird ache in his chest had gone as suddenly as it had appeared, but now his stomach felt all twisted in knots. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm good to go."

"The car is ready when we are," Peter said.

Stiles gave his dad a shaky smile. "So I guess this is it, then. Goodbye and all that."

His father placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm just a phone call away if you need me. No matter what." He waited for Stiles to let his bags fall to the floor before pulling him into a bone crushing hug, holding him tightly for several moments. He heard Stiles sniffle and whispered, "You're going to be fine. I love you, son."

"Love you too, Dad," Stiles replied in a broken whisper as he let go of his dad and wiped his eyes. Straightening his shoulders and blowing out a quick breath, he looked at Peter and Derek. "I'm ready."

Derek reached for Stiles' bags to help him carry them to the car but Maks held up a hand. "You'll help him if he needs it from here on, young man, but this time I will." He picked up Stiles' bags and motioned to Peter to lead the way.

Peter opened the front door and walked to the car. The driver opened the trunk and jumped out, hurrying to assist, but Maks waved him off. He placed Stiles' bags in the trunk and slammed it shut before leaning against it while the driver opened the door to usher Peter into his seat.

Derek held a hand out to Stiles. "Are you ready to go?"

Stiles swallowed heavily and nodded as he accepted Derek's outstretched hand. As soon as their hands touched, a jolt like electricity passed through him and he swore he felt Derek's hand tighten on his as though he felt the same thing. As they walked out, he closed the door quietly behind him. His boyhood home was behind him and a car was waiting to whisk him to his future dwelling, the dividing lines of his life seeming almost surreal.

"It's okay, I've got you," Derek said softly, startling Stiles out of his reverie.

"W-what?" he stuttered.

"I can hear your heartbeat, it's about to pound out of your chest," Derek said as they reached the car, where the driver waited with the door held open. "Stop worrying."

Stiles gave his dad one more tight, lingering hug before allowing himself to be led into the car, followed by Derek. Peter was sitting across from him and gave him a bright smile.

"Ready?" Peter asked cheerfully.

Stiles gave him a weak lift of the corners of his mouth in return and was surprised when Derek pointedly put an arm around him, the possessive action causing Peter to chuckle softly. It had been an emotional day and Stiles was mentally exhausted. Feeling a little lost and out of sorts, he turned and leaned into the protective warmth being silently offered by his Dom. He leaned against Derek's chest and closed his eyes as he listened to his steady heart beat, slowly relaxing and quietly dozing off.

* * *

Derek tightened his arm around Stiles, holding his sleeping submissive close. His breath caught when Stiles snuffled adorably and cuddled even closer. Touch was a basic submissive need; they craved it, sought it out, even while asleep, but there was always a matter of trust involved. The fact that already his boy trusted him enough to sleep in his arms even after he had been uprooted from the home he had always known made Derek's heart want to sing. It was becoming harder to remember why he didn't want to claim a sub. When Stiles sighed softly in his sleep, causing his lips to part ever so slightly, Derek began to realize that he just might be in serious trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Okay. Here is where I apologize yet again for how long it has taken me to update. I won't make any excuses, but I will honestly say that I have had a lot going on in RL and when I actually had the time to write, I wasn't always in the right mind frame. I also rewrote a significant portion of this, so that was another delay. This is the shortest chapter thus far, but hey, I earn the rating! *bats eyes and hopes this appeases at least a little***
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> **Thanks as always to my wonderful beta,[Sies](http://anderson--hummel.tumblr.com), for being the jewel she is, and to [Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com), who makes my writing better with her suggestions. I hope this lives up to expectation, darling. Thanks also to [Sam](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com), who suggested the idea in the first place. And I would be remiss if I didn't thank all of you who have subscribed, reviewed, and reached out to me on Tumblr. You inspire me.**
> 
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>  **Was anyone else screaming at their television during the 3a finale? And why is this hiatus so** **_long?_**

* * *

_"Stiles."_

"Go 'way." Stiles mumbled as he cuddled closer into the warmth surrounding him. A firm hand was stroking his back and he softly hummed his approval, then frowned when the hand moved to his shoulder to give him a soft shake.

 _"Stiles."_ More insistent this time.

"Five more minutes, Dad," Stiles mumbled, tightening his hold on his pillow, which was incredibly comfortable but strangely seemed a lot more firm than he remembered.

"There you go, Derek. Daddy kink. Just think of all the fun possibilities!"

When he heard Peter's delighted chuckle, Stiles jerked awake, his eyes popping open and full body flail nearly causing him to fall. Only Derek's quick grasp kept him from ending up in a heap in the floorboard of the car.

"Oh my god, would you just shut _up_?" Stiles heard Derek snap as he tried to get his bearings. He twisted in his Dom's arms to look out the car window. They had pulled up to the large, stately Hale mansion and a service sub was approaching the car to assist them inside.

When the door was opened, Stiles watched as Peter got out first. He accepted a list of messages from the service sub and read through it quickly. Quirking a smile at Stiles, Peter sighed and said, "No rest for the weary, it seems business calls. I hope you'll forgive me for being absent from your homecoming; unfortunately I have something I need to attend to immediately. But as the Alpha, I welcome you to our home." He gave Derek a quick nod before walking into the house.

Stiles waited for Derek to get out next, and he climbed out of the back seat with a lithe grace that left Stiles feeling a bit breathless. He clambered out behind his Dom without waiting for assistance and stood next to the car awkwardly as the service sub opened the trunk and gathered up his belongings. Would Derek want him to follow him at a certain distance? What if he wanted Stiles to crawl or something? To his relief, Derek wordlessly motioned him to his side and placed a steadying hand on the small of his back as they walked into the imposing house.

The interior of the Hale manor was tasteful and welcoming, certainly not the ostentatious grandeur Stiles had admittedly been expecting. Wealth was evident but not overpowering. The foyer was a deep brown hardwood with a simple yet elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Twin staircases led to the next floor, but instead of being lined with expensive works of art or sculptures, there were instead framed pictures of the Hale family. The wooden railings were polished to a fine glow and the whole area gave an impression of warmth and life instead of the austere coldness that might be believed of a family that had been hit with the kind of tragedy the Hales had.

Stiles stood quietly as Derek directed the service subs to put Stiles' things in his bedroom and told them they were free to go home once they finished. He leaned into his Dom and felt a thrill when Derek's hand moved from his back to snake around his waist and pull him closer. Stiles couldn't help but feel secure and protected. It was a heady feeling that was still very new. He had always felt protected by his father, and even Lydia, but this was different and exciting, and maybe just a little scary. Once the service subs left them, Derek returned his hand to the small of Stiles' back, urging him forward. There was a set of double doors ahead that were open with light spilling out and the sound of voices from within. Stiles hesitated for a moment, glancing unsurely at his Dom. Derek gave his back a reassuring rub and motioned him forward into the room.

When Stiles walked through the doors he realized he was in a large living room. The plush carpet felt squishy under his shoes and there was a huge high def television on one wall. There were two large couches arranged with colorful throw pillows and the coffee table and matching end tables were a deep cherry wood. On one of the couches, Stiles recognized Laura Hale. She was sitting at one end while a lanky, dark skinned guy that Stiles recognized as Vernon Boyd lay across the couch with his head in her lap. Boyd had been a senior Stiles' freshman year and had been captain of the submissives' lacrosse team. He had been fair and dependable. Stiles seemed to remember hearing about him being claimed by Laura Hale soon after her return to Beacon Hills. Being spooned by Boyd was Erica, who gave him a lazy smile and wave, and sprawled on top of both of them was Isaac, who looked to be half asleep as Laura idly stroked her fingers through his light curls.

"Oh, good, Derek, you're back! And you brought him back with you, that's fantastic. Hello, Stiles, welcome home," Laura smiled, trying to put the obviously nervous submissive at ease.

Stiles gave her a wobbly grin, trying to appear at ease. "Thanks, Mistress Hale, I'm happy to be here."

"Aren't you simply adorable?" Laura cooed. "Such a good boy, too. But you don't have to call me Mistress Hale here. When we're at home you have my permission to call me Laura. You know my submissive Boyd, don't you? And of course you already know Erica and Isaac. You're welcome to come join our puppy pile, we'll make room!"

Stiles heard a low rumbling growl as Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. He couldn't help but feel a frisson of excitement at the possessive action from his Dom.

Laura's smile became a wickedly teasing grin. "Or not. I see my brother isn't in a sharing mood. Not that I blame him. Okay, you two. Duty fulfilled, you've said hello, now we can say good night. Go on, go upstairs. I'm sure Derek is ready to scent you some more. I suppose you'll be absent from classes tomorrow, yes?"

"Oh, I can't! I have a test in Dom Harris' class tomorrow," remembered Stiles. Fortunately he knew the material like the back of his hand, otherwise he'd be in a panic over not studying at all tonight.

"The claim isn't formal until tomorrow night, Lola," Derek spoke from behind him. Apparently, that explained something to Laura because a look of understanding crossed her face and she nodded.

"Okay. Will Stiles be needing a ride to school, or do you plan to take him?" she asked.

"I'll take him," Derek answered. He leaned closer to Stiles and murmured quietly, "It's time to go upstairs."

Stiles blushed and swallowed nervously, knowing he would be alone with his Dom. "S-sure," he said with only a slight stammer. "See you guys later."

Laura gave him another kind smile. "Good night, Stiles. It's about time that Boyd and I turn in as well, and I'm sure Peter will be expecting Erica and Isaac to be in his room when he gets there. Breakfast is served at 7:00, so we'll see you in the morning."

Stiles nodded and swallowed heavily when Derek took him by the hand to lead him from the room. They went upstairs and Derek turned them down a short hallway. He walked to the door at the end and opened it. "Well, here we are. This is my room. Or, our room, I guess I should say."

Stiles walked in and looked around wonderingly. The room was large, much bigger than his bedroom at home was. The walls were a creamy off white and devoid of any posters or pictures, the only adornment being a large TV. It hung opposite to the huge bed that was covered with a plush comforter and already had his pillow arranged on one side with the other plump pillows there. The sheets were turned back invitingly, causing his cheeks to heat and his stomach to twist with nervous excitement. A large trunk was at the foot of the bed. There was a desk with a computer on it against one wall and to either side of it were tall shelves that were both filled with books. There was also a mirrored dresser and matching chest of drawers arranged near the closet, and what looked to be a gigantic en suite bathroom through the open door. Vertical blinds were hanging across sliding glass doors, and Stiles could see a balcony outside.

"Wow," he croaked. He looked at Derek, who had been watching him silently and looked almost...nervous? _What even_. "This is-this is really _nice_." His Dom seemed to relax at his words, and he walked over to the dresser.

"I went ahead and had the house subs put your things away," Derek said with a wave of his hand. "Once you get moved in, the left side of the dresser will be yours, as well as the top two drawers on the chest. There are also shelves on your side of the closet and space to hang things up. You have your own area in the bathroom for toiletries or whatever you might need. Go ahead and take your shower and get ready for bed."

"Uh, yeah, that'll be great," Stiles said. He licked his lips nervously, looking down and not noticing how the movement drew Derek's eyes to his mouth. "Can I-will it be okay for me to wear clothes to bed, Sir?"

Derek raised his eyebrows and gave him a small but pleased smile. He turned and walked to the door, taking a deep breath as he opened it. He looked back at Stiles and said, "I think that'll be okay for tonight. Thank you for asking. That's my good boy."

Stiles fidgeted, warming at the words of praise from his Dom. He wished he had more experience at this type of thing and knew if he should maybe invite Derek to join him or watch or something, the idea sending a hot spike of nervous arousal through him. He thought he heard the creak of wood, but a quick glance showed him that Derek was still standing in the doorway with one hand on the door facing.

"I'll be back in just a bit," Derek said, his voice sounding oddly strained. He stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

Stiles blinked in surprise, wondering why Derek had left him alone instead of staying, not that he minded the privacy. He looked around the room again. Now that he was alone, his normal sense of curiosity took over. The trunk at the foot of the bed appeared to be locked. He walked over to the shelves of books, wondering what his Dom enjoyed reading. There were several biographies as well as what looked like the entire collection of Stephen King works. He saw the Game of Thrones books and all of the Harry Potter books, as well as a multitude of literary classics. There was even a small collection of romance novels, much to Stiles' amusement. All of the books looked slightly worn and well read, so he knew they weren't just for show. Towards the end of the bottom shelf, Stiles blushed to find several books of hentai and erotica, as well as books about bondage, flogging, shibari, and master/slave relations.

It seemed his Dom had a wide variety of interests.

The computer on the desk was a sleek Mac. Stiles found his laptop bag leaning against the side of the desk and pulled his computer out. The desk had plenty of room to accommodate it, so he plugged it in and set it up to one side. He plugged his cellphone charger in and decided to quickly text Scott before putting his phone on for the night. He walked over to the door and took a picture of the room, typing " **Wow** " as a caption before hitting send and plugging the phone in. Wondering where his things were, Stiles opened the drawers Derek had indicated. He found his clothes neatly folded and put away in the top dresser drawer. The few things he had brought looked a little forlorn in one corner of the drawer, but once he brought the rest of his things he would appreciate his Dom's consideration. Unable to resist temptation, Stiles peeked in the drawers that were Derek's. He ran his fingers lightly over the darker colored clothing Derek seemed to prefer, holding a shirt up to his nose and breathing in. A pleasant scent that reminded Stiles of the forest clung to the clothing. It felt somehow relaxing and secure all at once, and he wondered if Derek would mind if he slept in his clothes sometime. The rest of the drawers yielded nothing but more clothing, and the same for the closet. Stiles wondered at the apparent absence of any sort of toys or anything that his Dom might want to incorporate into their claim. Maybe Derek preferred not to use them. Stiles felt a small wave of disappointment, then perked up. The Hale mansion was huge, it was possible there might be a separate playroom. He figured he'd find out soon enough.

Two quick chimes of his phone in succession indicated text messages, so Stiles closed the closet door and walked back to the desk.

**_Niiiiice! *bro fist*_ **

**_Allison says congratulations and she's happy for you._ **

Stiles fired back a quick answer.

**Tell her thanks. Gotta go, ttyl...**

Stiles hit send and turned off his phone. Until he knew what Derek's rules would be when they were in their room, he wasn't going to chance displeasing him. A quick glance told him he needed to hurry; he didn't know when Derek would be back and he wanted to be showered and ready. Even though his Dom hadn't given him a command or specific time limit, he really wanted to make a good impression on their first night, even if it wasn't the official one. Stiles gathered up his pajamas and clean briefs and carried them into the bathroom.

When Stiles walked into the large en suite, his eyes widened and he came to such a sudden stop he nearly fell on his ass. To his left was a large stand-alone shower that could easily accommodate two people. It was enclosed by shaded glass doors and had a wall of multiple shower heads. The floor was textured stone and there was a wall seat in the far end. His shower gel and shampoo were already on one of the built-in shelves. Just past the shower and in the corner was a large Jacuzzi bathtub. There were candles on the wide end ledges as well as an assortment of bath gels and oils. Two separate sinks shared a large counter space and there was a large mirror behind them. A small medicine cabinet was hung near the door to the small water closet where the toilet was. It was one of the most luxurious bathrooms he'd ever seen.

Stiles turned on the shower and jumped when the water came out already heated and in full force. He grinned delightedly and quickly stripped out of his clothing. Once he was in the shower he found he could position the heads however he wanted. Within minutes, Stiles was singing enthusiastically as he soaped himself up under the steady deluge of hot water. He reached for his shampoo and lathered it up, spiking his hair up in a Mohawk before flattening it and rinsing. It was tempting to stay in the shower longer and indulge himself in a little Stiles time to help him relax, but he decided against it. It would be just his luck that Derek would come back and catch him jerking off. Talk about embarrassing. Even if he kept it quiet, there was always the chance he'd still be overheard. Oh, god, and they could _smell_ it, too, couldn't they? Scott used to complain about the smell in his room sometimes if he came over right after Stiles time. Stiles was suddenly seeing a distinct disadvantage to being in a house full of werewolves.

He stepped out on the bath mat and quickly dried off with one of the thick towels hanging on the rack. He slipped into his briefs and then pulled on the soft flannel pajama pants and t-shirt he'd brought to sleep in. Brushing his teeth and flossing took just a few minutes, and Stiles studied his face critically in the mirror for a moment to make sure he didn't have any zits coming up or anything. Deciding he passed inspection for the night he gathered up his dirty clothes to toss into the hamper and padded barefoot to go back to the bedroom.

Even though he'd known Derek was returning soon, Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin when he walked into the room to discover his Dom lounging across the huge bed, reading a book and wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs that left nothing to the imagination. His heart beat a rapid tattoo against his ribcage and his mouth felt suddenly dry. He stared for just a moment, nearly dropping the armload of dirty clothes in his distraction before catching himself and quickly depositing the clothes in the hamper. Stiles licked his lips nervously. They hadn't talked about bedtime rituals or anything yet, but he didn't think he should just climb into the bed with Derek. Standing awkwardly and staring didn't seem like much of an option either. An idea came to him, and Stiles inwardly crossed his fingers that the instinct flooding him was right. He walked quietly to the bed near Derek's head and dropped to his knees, looking down at the floor.

 _"Sir,"_ he said, his voice just above a whisper as he waited breathlessly for his Dom to respond.

* * *

Derek tightened his fingers on the book he held. He could smell the clean scent of soap and still damp hair mixed in with the slightly sharper scent of anxiousness. He could hear the rapid thud of Stiles' heart and knew he was nervous. Derek was determined to put his submissive at ease, even if it killed him. When he had caught the scent of arousal coming from Stiles earlier it had taken nearly all his control not to shift on the spot. He was pretty sure he had at least dented the wooden doorframe, if not cracked it. Peter would either be aggravated or amused over the damage; Derek had a feeling it would be the latter and he probably would never live it down.

Derek knew Stiles had been surprised to be left alone for his shower, but he had needed to put some distance between them. He had gone downstairs and had a glass of ice water to cool himself down. The scent of Stiles was driving him insane, especially now that his own scent was mixed in with it. Maybe it was the claim happening in close proximity to the full moon, but Derek had decided that a long workout or run through the woods, maybe both, would be in order tomorrow while Stiles was at school. After their claiming ceremony tomorrow evening, Stiles would officially be his and he would need to be in perfect control to begin teaching his young submissive how to please him without traumatizing him.

This had never been a problem for Derek before. He was always in perfect control, his wolf always well in check when he played with a sub. This burning _need_ , the _demand_ of his wolf so close to the surface was something unfamiliar, and Derek was thrown off kilter by it. He had no explanation for it, and that unsettled him.

Derek had had a moment of anxiety when he brought Stiles to his- _their_ -room. It was nondescript and plain, no decoration of any sort. Kate had always mocked his taste as stodgy and boring, and for a terrifying moment, he had wondered if Stiles would feel the same. He knew Stiles had looked around the room. He had seen the laptop set up on the desk, saw the phone plugged in, smelled where Stiles had touched some of his clothing. Rather than being annoyed over the intrusion, though, Derek was surprised at how much this actually pleased him.

Now his submissive was there, kneeling in perfect posture as he waited to be acknowledged, scrubbed clean and smelling incredible, yet all wrong because he didn't smell like Derek anymore. This was not acceptable at all.

Derek sat up and closed his book, not caring that he lost his place. It wasn't like he'd paid attention to anything on the page from the moment he'd heard the shower shut off, anyway. He tossed it on the nightstand on his side of the bed and pulled the covers back to lie down under them. He held them up and patted the space next to him.

"Come to bed," Derek said, voice gentle but firm. He watched as Stiles swallowed nervously before rising to his feet and climbing into the bed next to him. Derek twisted to turn off the lamp and then turned back to arrange the sheet and comforter over them both. Stiles lay stiffly on his back next to him, breathing shallow and quick and heartbeat a rapid thud in Derek's ears. He placed a hand on Stiles' stomach and felt it jump and clench under his touch. Stiles inhaled sharply and Derek nearly withdrew his hand. But no. Stiles needed to get used to being in bed with him, needed to become familiar with his touch.

"Relax. I'm not going to ravish you," Derek said blandly, keeping his hand still instead of rubbing the taut stomach under his hand. He resisted the urge to reach under the t-shirt and slide his hand along that warm, smooth skin.

At least he tried to. But then Stiles whispered breathlessly, "You're not?" A note of disappointment was clear in his tone, and Derek nearly groaned out loud. He hadn't been to a sub club in weeks and domination was coursing through him, demanding to be released and even stronger in such close proximity to a submissive his body recognized as his own. He slid his hand across Stiles' stomach and gave a tug to indicate where he wanted him to move.

"Move onto your side," Derek all but growled. Stiles quickly obeyed and rolled over so that his back was to his Dom. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles' waist and pulled him back so that he was flush against him. He leaned into Stiles' neck and rubbed his face against the sensitive skin, rumbling with satisfaction as his submissive once again began to smell like a mixture of the two of them. His hand worked its way under the soft cotton of Stiles' t-shirt and Derek ran his fingers lightly across bare skin. It was just as warm as he had imagined and he smiled as he heard a soft gasp escape Stiles, and his heartbeat sped up even more. There was a soft trail of hair below Stiles' belly button that disappeared into the flannel pajama pants and Derek wanted to follow it with his tongue. He contented himself instead with tracing his fingers teasingly around the indentation of navel before lightly running them down to the waistband of the pants and back.

Even in the dark with just a hint of moonlight to illuminate the room, Derek's super senses took over and he could hear the hitch in Stiles' breathing. He could see Stiles was biting his lush lower lip, worrying at it with his teeth until it was plump and red, and Derek was torn between wanting to hear the delicious noises he knew Stiles must be holding back and covering those lips with his own and swallowing them instead. His pretty boy was blushing hotly and the dark flush of his skin ran down his neck to hide under the shirt he wore. Derek wondered just how far down that flush went. He wouldn't find out, not tonight when they weren't officially claimed, but he promised himself that tomorrow he would follow that blush across those cheeks and down that neck with his tongue and would trace it down as far as it would go.

The sweet and spicy scent of arousal coming from Stiles was growing stronger and Derek's cock, which had been half hard since Stiles had dropped to his knees next to the bed, hardened fully in response, straining against the tight fit of his briefs. He could feel Stiles trembling in his arms with the effort to stay still under his questing hands and ground against him lightly, causing him to jerk in his arms. Derek made a soft shushing noise as he soothingly nuzzled the sensitive patch of skin below Stiles' ear and pressed his lips lightly to his neck before opening his mouth and sucking gently until he felt the blood rising to the surface. The mark he left wasn't quite as dark as he would have liked, but pleased him nonetheless. It would still be there tomorrow when Stiles went to school, and everyone would know he was off limits. That he belonged to someone.

Derek suddenly couldn't wait to have Stiles wearing his cuff. They would go right after school to pick them out so they would have them for the claiming ceremony, and tomorrow night he would have Stiles kneel for him wearing nothing but the symbol of Derek's claim on him. His cock gave a hard twitch at the image in his head.

When Stiles moaned softly, Derek closed his eyes to keep his control. When Stiles ground back against him, he nearly lost it. He _wanted_. He wanted so much to show Stiles the mysteries of his body, how to give and receive pleasure. It would be so easy. His body thrummed with dominance like electricity and he knew that all it would take was a word from him and Stiles would do anything he commanded. His boy would be receptive, so eager to please and oh, so willing.

No. Derek wouldn't do that, he wouldn't command Stiles outside their official claim. He could control himself.

_He could._

* * *

Stiles lay as quietly as he could. He could feel the heat from the muscled wall of Derek's bare chest against his back, but that heat was nothing to the hot and hard bulge he felt pressing against his ass. His Dom's fingers were still lightly running up and down his happy trail and Stiles could feel the throb in his neck where Derek had sucked a hickey. It was driving him crazy. He was hard and he wanted...he didn't _know_ what. He had never done this before, and judging by all the porn he'd watched, by this point he was supposed to be getting fucked into the mattress, or at least getting rimmed or fingered or _something_. Derek's restraint was both a bit of a relief and a source of confusion.

Finally, Stiles had to say something. He had to _know_. "Sir?" he asked softly, his voice just a little shaky. He nearly whimpered in protest when Derek's fingers stopped stroking his belly.

"Yes?" Derek answered him. His voice sounded steady, and if it weren't for the hard erection throbbing against his ass, Stiles would think Derek was completely unmoved by the entire situation.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Stiles asked. He waited fearfully for the answer, sure there must be something. He didn't want to mess up, he wanted to be a good boy.

Derek leaned up on one elbow so he could look down at him. "No, of course not. Why do you ask?"

Stiles shrugged one shoulder, feeling embarrassed. "You aren't touching me. I mean, you _are_ touching me, but I guess I just thought...never mind, I must be more tired than I thought." _Shut up, Stiles!_ he thought miserably. He settled back against Derek and closed his eyes. "Good night, Sir."

* * *

Derek felt the sizzle of dominance run up his spine and felt his cock throb in response. So his boy wanted him to _touch_ him. Derek could most certainly oblige. He wouldn't take Stiles tonight, but that didn't mean he couldn't take a small taste of the the sweet promise he held. Stiles was his, and there was no reason he couldn't start getting him used to touching and being touched, to feeling good. They both wanted it. Their bodies fit together perfectly as though they were made for each other, like two matching puzzle pieces.

Derek moved to lay back down flush behind Stiles. He put his hand back on Stiles' stomach where he had rucked the shirt up before and began stroking the warm skin again. Only this time, instead of stopping at the waist of the pajama pants, he worked his hand under them to toy with the waistband of the briefs Stiles wore. His boy jerked in surprise and Derek whispered, "Easy now."

"Easy for you to say," Stiles retorted and Derek chuckled. He stayed where he was for a moment, just running his fingers lightly under the elastic and out again as he nuzzled below Stiles' ear before tracing his lips teasingly along the edge of the delicate skin.

"Oh my _god_ ," groaned Stiles, and Derek was pleased to see goosebumps rise up on his arms. He filed that little tidbit away for future reference and continued to tease at the briefs that were quickly becoming an annoyance to him and keeping him from what he wanted. He could hear the heavy pounding of Stiles' heart and could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. This time, when he ran his fingers under Stiles' briefs he kept going, moving with purpose and sliding the offending clothing down until he was holding his hard cock in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Jesus Christ!" yelped Stiles, his entire body jerking in response. "Are you-okay, we're actually- _oh my god_ ," he moaned, tossing his head back against Derek's shoulder as his Dom began moving his hand.

Derek ran his hand lightly up and down Stiles' hard cock, mapping the silky soft skin from tip to base with his fingertips and back up again. It throbbed in his grasp and Derek could smell the sharp tang of precome. He ran his thumb lightly over the tip to gather the moisture there, eliciting another shivering moan from his submissive, wrapped his fist around the hard girth and began stroking. Slow and easy at first, then faster when Stiles' hips began to move of their own accord, fucking into his hand. Derek felt the stinging in his gums as his canines lengthened, and he ground his hard cock against the plush firmness of Stiles' ass. He was almost desperate for his own relief, but he wasn't going to let go of Stiles long enough to get it. He had his boy right where he wanted him; squirming, panting for breath and moaning, the soft curses and pleas music to his ears.

It was one of the sexiest things Derek had ever seen. He couldn't remember being this hot for any submissive, ever. There had been many who had satisfied his need, even pleased him, but he had never come so close to losing control of his wolf with anyone but Stiles. No other submissive had ever caused his teeth to lengthen or his eyes to flash their bright blue. He pressed himself closer to Stiles, grinding his hardness against him as he continued to stroke his boy's cock.

Derek could tell Stiles was getting close. His movements were becoming more erratic and his heartbeat was a rapid thud. His moans were growing louder, even though Derek could tell he was trying to hold back. That wouldn't do. There might be times he would keep Stiles quiet, but right now he wanted to hear _everything_.

" _God_ , you touching me is so much more different than-" Stiles gasped.

Except that. Derek stopped grinding against Stiles and slowed his hand's movement on his cock, causing him to whine in protest. It felt like a cold weight had settled on his chest. While Derek didn't necessarily _expect_ for Stiles to be a virgin, he had been under the impression that he was. He knew from the file Peter had given him that Stiles was one of the youngest in his class, even for all that he was a brilliant student. He had come into maturity after all of his friends, and his tattooing had been less than a year ago. Relations outside of a claim were not the norm, but it wasn't unheard of for young unclaimed teens to experiment by touching each other. While it didn't change his desire to claim Stiles, Derek felt a white hot flare of jealousy that someone else had touched him like this, had heard his desperate pleas, brought him to sweet release.

"Who was it?" he growled, still stroking Stiles slowly, just enough to keep him on the brink of madness. He gave his cock a light squeeze and Stiles moaned softly.

"Who was what?" Stiles asked, sounding confused and slightly out of breath.

Derek nipped at Stiles' ear. "You said me touching you was different, who else touched you like this?" _So I can make sure they never touch you again._

Stiles' face flushed hot and Derek caught the bitter scent of embarrassment. "Shit. I said that out loud? I was thinking how different it was when you touched me instead of when I touch myself. I mean, how is it you seem to know how to touch me almost better than I do?"

Derek listened to Stiles' heartbeat and it never faltered. He was telling the truth, and Derek felt the heaviness in his chest disappear as his wolf preened in pleasure. Stiles was his, and _he_ was the one making him feel this pleasure. He was the _only_ one who had made him feel like this. He tightened his hand and began jerking Stiles at a fast pace, working him towards the edge again.

"Fuck!" Stiles gasped as Derek got him closer and closer. He threw one arm back to wrap around Derek's neck and Derek buried his face in the tender juncture where neck and shoulder met. He licked the soft surface before sucking another bruise on the pale skin, resisting the urge to bite. Stiles would have his mark visible on his neck, that was enough for now. Suddenly Stiles stiffened before arching back against Derek, and a guttural groan ripped from his throat as he came hot across Derek's hand.

Derek held Stiles for a moment, letting him catch his breath before kneeling up. He pushed at Stiles' shoulders so that he lay flat on his back and moved quickly to straddle his hips. With lightening flash movements he had Stiles' t-shirt rucked up to his armpits, exposing his toned stomach, and had his own briefs down around his thighs. Derek grunted as he jerked himself off fast and urgent, using Stiles' come to slide his hand up and down his rock hard cock. He tilted his head towards the ceiling and bared his teeth in a low growl when he came, splashing white stripes of come across his submissives' belly.

The smell of their come mingled together and Derek growled again, a low, pleased rumble. He used his come-covered hand to smear it all together over the skin of Stiles' belly, scenting him in one of the most primal ways he could. When he was satisfied that Stiles would smell of them both for days, Derek leaned down and licked slowly over his stomach, cleaning him up and savoring their taste on his tongue. When he finished, he made one final swipe with his tongue to gather the last taste as he moved up Stiles' lithe and relaxed body, slotting them together and marveling again over how well they fit together.

"You taste so good," Derek whispered before he pressed his lips to Stiles' for the first time, encouraging him to part his lips. When Stiles hesitatingly opened his mouth, Derek slid his tongue in, letting him taste the two of them. A low moan escaped from Stiles, making Derek press harder. When he felt Stiles licking back against his tongue to taste more, Derek moved his hands to the headboard of the bed, trying desperately not to claw gouges in the wood. His boy was so incredibly warm and eager, and his scent flooded all of Derek's senses. That alone was enough to drive Derek nearly to the brink of insanity.

Parting left them both dazed. They stared at each other in stunned silence. Derek ran his fingers lightly over the bruises he'd sucked onto Stiles' neck before tracing his kiss-swollen lips with his thumb.

Stiles recovered enough to speak first. "Wow," he whispered with a small grin.

Derek silently agreed. Tonight had been amazing. Suddenly he was impatient for their meeting with the magistrate. He wanted Stiles wearing his cuff and for them to have a contract in place. Tomorrow night would be even better. He rolled off of Stiles, smiling to himself when his boy protested. He pulled his briefs back into place and rearranged Stiles' clothes before lying on his side and pulling Stiles to him. A warm feeling of contentment settled in his chest when Stiles cuddled back against him and sighed happily. His dominance had been appeased, but now Derek knew a new hunger, and his body tingled with it.

"Tomorrow our claim will be official and you'll be mine," Derek whispered low into Stiles' ear. He nuzzled the soft skin below the ear, which was becoming one of his favorite spots. "Once our claim begins, all your orgasms belong to me. You won't be punished for coming without permission tonight, but from here on you won't come unless I say so."

Stiles shivered in his arms and gave a pleased hum when Derek tightened his arm around his waist. "Yes, Sir," he whispered drowsily. Derek held his submissive close, waiting for him to fall asleep in his arms before giving himself over to slumber.

For the first time in years, he didn't dream of fire.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So. I'm still alive and look! An update! I'm incredibly apologetic at how long it took me to get this written and posted. RL has been incredibly hectic and I have had a bit of a hard time coaxing my muse. Hopefully that is a thing of the past and the next update won't take as long. Thanks for sticking with me, guys. Each person who took the time to write a review or come to my tumblr and offer encouragement, it was all so very appreciated. I love you all so much!**
> 
>  
> 
> **All my gratitude and affection to my brilliant beta,[Sies](http://kurtsweenie.tumblr.com), for all she does to keep me in line, and also to my beloved [Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com), who I should honestly just give beta cred because of the amount of time she spends brainstorming with me, reading over and suggesting ideas, and for our tumblr ask box conversations. Love you ladies so much! [Sam](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com), I hope this continues to make you happy. XOXO-**

* * *

Early morning light was beginning to fill the room when Derek felt the first tugs of wakefulness. He was hard, which wasn't unusual. What _was_ unusual was that he wasn't alone. It was the first time Derek had ever woken up with a submissive in his bed, and he was surprised that instead of awkwardness or anxiety all he felt was a bone deep sense of satisfaction that the warm body snuggled up against him smelled like _his_. He stretched slowly and carefully so as not to wake the sleeping boy wrapped around him. At some point in time during the night, Derek had moved to his back and Stiles had turned towards him in his sleep. He had his arm wrapped around Stiles, who was sleeping soundly with one arm and leg thrown across Derek, seeking the comfort and protection of his Dom even in slumber. Stiles' lips were parted slightly and his long lashes fanned his cheeks making him look almost angelic as he slept. The illusion of innocence contrasted sharply with the smattering of dark marks visible on his neck, silently proclaiming Derek's ownership. Derek's wolf preened as the Dom drank in the sight of his boy marked up and sleeping soundly in their bed.

Derek looked over at the clock on his nightstand. It was just after 6AM. It had been ages since he had slept through the entire night without being yanked awake by nightmares of the kiss of fire flicking across his skin, the taste of ash clogging his throat and the sound of mocking laughter falling from dark red lips. Derek wasn't sure if he had dreamt the night before but what he did know was that he had gotten his first good night's sleep in years. He wasn't sure why things were different, but he wasn't about to question it, choosing instead to simply be grateful for the gift he'd been given.

Derek had a few minutes before he needed to wake Stiles for school, and he was determined to savor the early morning quiet before the chaos of the morning intervened. Derek felt a pang of regret for not insisting that Stiles stay home that day so that they could spend all day in bed exploring each other, and the rumble in his chest let him know his wolf was not happy with the idea of letting the boy out of his sight either. He placated them both with the reminder that in just a few hours he would be at the magistrate with Stiles negotiating their contract, and once the claim was official he would be free to familiarize himself with every inch of his submissive at his leisure.

Stiles twitched in his sleep and mumbled something incoherent before nuzzling in closer to Derek. His left hand splayed across Derek's chest, and Derek couldn't resist gently toying with his fingers. He was finally able to look closely at the black tattoo that proclaimed Stiles to be a submissive of claimable age. The simple design was of a bird with its wings spread in flight. As he studied the mark, he could hear Stiles' heartbeat pick up and knew his submissive was waking up. Golden brown eyes flickered open sleepily, then widened as he jerked fully awake.

"Dad?" Stiles quickly leaned up and looked around in panicked confusion.

"Shhh, it's okay," soothed Derek, letting go of Stiles' hand and rubbing his back gently to calm him. He watched as Stiles rubbed his hand over his face and looked at him. Recognition and embarrassment flooded Stiles' face, and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Sorry," Stiles said sheepishly. "I didn't know where I was for a minute." The boy then seemed to realize he was bodily wrapped around Derek and the sour scent of embarrassment filled Derek's nostrils as Stiles flushed a delicate pink. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry," Stiles mumbled as he tried to extricate himself. Derek didn't like the idea of his submissive feeling anxious and unsettled so instead of releasing him he tightened his grip and held him closer.

"I really don't mind," Derek assured him quietly. He knew that touch was important to submissives, that there were times they craved it, other times where it kept them grounded and secure. He was hardly going to complain that his submissive was already turning to him for one of his basic needs and he wasn't going to allow Stiles to be embarrassed about it, either. Determined to set Stiles at ease, he took his hand again and lightly traced the tattoo. "I like this."

When the tension eased from Stiles' muscles and he snuggled a little closer, Derek mentally gave himself a pat on the back.

"It's a visual representation of my nickname, well, my _other_ nickname," Stiles chuckled. "Ptaszek. It means 'little bird' in Polish," he said softly. "It's what my mom called me when she was alive. I know everyone thinks their mom is the best mom but mine really was. She was my best friend. She's the only person who ever really _got_ me. I never had to explain anything to her, ever. It was like she always just _knew_. When she died, I wouldn't let anyone call me that anymore, not even my dad. That was hers. When I finally became of age and it was time for my tattooing, I chose this for her. To show her I would always be her good boy, her Ptaszek, even as I grew up and spread my wings." He shrugged self-consciously and huffed a small laugh.

In reply, Derek raised his own left hand from where it had been resting on Stiles' shoulder, stroking it with his thumb. Stiles twisted and ducked out from under Derek's arm and propped himself up on his elbow, settling alongside him. He took Derek's hand and studied the red design closely, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity.

"Wow," Stiles breathed. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah," answered Derek. "When I was ready for my tattooing, I went online to find something that was a sort of fire symbol. Given my history, the phoenix seemed fitting. Reborn in fire and rising out of the ashes, I'm not generally one for symbolism but it spoke to me in a way that nothing else did. I got this to honor the fact that I'm still here, that I survived but also so that it could serve as a memorial for what I lost and a reminder as to why. I see it every day and remember." He tightened his hand into a fist, then rolled over and sat up, turning his back to Stiles. Derek hated the sudden scent of hurt confusion coming from his submissive, but he didn't want to talk about it anymore. No doubt Stiles either remembered the story of the Hale fire, or had heard the rumors that still cropped up from time to time. It rankled him to think that his family tragedy had been reduced to fuel for the rumor mill, that everyone he passed on the street knew that because of him thinking with his dick and being stupid enough to believe in love had been the colossal fuck up that had cost him nearly everything. Derek took a quick glimpse at the clock and saw with a sense of relief that it was past time to be getting ready. He stood up and stretched before turning back to Stiles. "It's time for you to get dressed. Breakfast will be served soon."

Stiles slowly got out of bed, his movements hesitant and unsure. It was obvious he thought he had done something wrong and Derek couldn't allow his sub to take responsibility for things that were beyond his control. It wasn't Stiles' fault that Derek's past was an open wound that he had yet to heal and couldn't stand talking about. He quickly crossed around to the other side of the room and pulled Stiles to him so he could rest their foreheads against each other. He breathed in their mingled scent and rubbed his stubbled cheek against the tender curve of the boy's neck, giving into the urge to scent him even more. "You didn't do anything wrong, Stiles. My past is a sore subject for me and I'd rather not discuss it, but that has nothing to do with you. You're my good boy. You go ahead and take the bathroom, and I'll meet you downstairs in the kitchen."

The small smile Stiles gave him was still a little unsure, but his eyes were bright and clear. Derek watched him walk into the bathroom, then crossed over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the folded flannel shirt, t-shirt and jeans that were inside and laid them on the bed. He found the sneakers Stiles had kicked off into a corner the night before and put them on the trunk along with clean socks. Laying out the clothes for his submissive was a mundane sort of thing, but Derek found himself enjoying it and actually looking somewhat forward to when he had more wardrobe to select from. He then grabbed his own clothes and dashed down the hall to one of the guest bathrooms to answer nature's call and get dressed himself.

When Derek got downstairs, Peter was already sitting at the head of the table, forking eggs into his mouth while reading the morning paper. Erica was yawning as she poured two mugs of coffee, adding cream and sugar to them both and stirring before carrying them to the table. She put one down next to Peter and sat in the chair next to him, where her own plate was. She gave Derek a little smile of greeting as she began buttering a piece of toast. The side door opened and Boyd held it for Laura as she walked into the room, followed by a sleepy looking Isaac.

Peter took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes appreciatively. "Perfect as always, my pet," he said to Erica, stroking her neck lightly as she preened under his praise. He turned his shrewd gaze to Derek and gave him a smug smile. "Well, good morning. _You_ look well rested."

Derek grunted in reply. What happened in his bedroom wasn't anyone's business but his.

Peter took another sip of his coffee and took a moment to ruffle Isaac's curls affectionately before continuing with obvious enjoyment, "Yes, it's been _ages_ since I've seen you so relaxed. I didn't hear you up and prowling around in the middle of the night like you normally do. How very interesting."

Laura didn't say anything but watched Derek with unabashed interest. Derek was saved from saying anything when a flustered looking Stiles was shown into the dining room by a smiling house submissive. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, running a hand awkwardly through his hair and tousling it. "I got turned around."

A wave of guilt rolled over Derek. Of course Stiles wasn't familiar with the house just yet. He should have waited for him and shown him the way himself instead of leaving his submissive to his own devices. "It's okay," he said, "It's my fault for not making sure you knew where you were going. I'll be sure to give you a tour later on so you know your way around. Are you hungry?"

Stiles gave him a sunny grin. "Famished. Sir."

Derek pointedly ignored Erica's giggle and held his hand out to Stiles. "Come on, let me show you the set up. We usually do breakfast buffet style. There are the usual things; eggs, sausage, bacon, home fries, toast, you get the idea. There's also fruit, yogurt, cereal, or oatmeal, if you prefer. If there's something you want that isn't there, the kitchen can fix it. Just let me know what you want."

Derek stifled a grin as Stiles eyed the food with equal parts hunger and wonder. "Jeez, it's like being in a hotel or something!" He motioned to the stacked plates and gave Derek a shy glance. "Do you want me to fix my own, or should I tell you what I'd like or what?"

Derek felt a pleasant rush of contentment flow through him that his sub was already looking to him to provide guidance and care. His satisfaction was short-lived when he realized that he didn't know what Stiles would _like_ to eat, let alone any possible allergies he might have or any of the other little details he'd need to know in order to properly care for him. Derek frowned at his revelation. That wouldn't do at all. He would have to remedy that as soon as possible. A quick glance at Stiles showed him nervously looking down as though he thought _he_ was the reason for Derek's displeasure. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on his submissive's neck.

"It's okay," Derek reassured Stiles. "I just realized that I don't know what you'd like for breakfast, among other things. Here's what we're going to do; I want you to fix your own breakfast this morning, and we'll talk later and get to know one another a bit better. I plan to take very good care of you," he whispered as he leaned over and nuzzled Stiles' neck, re-scenting his favorite spot just below his ear and smiling when his boy gave a little shiver in response. "Hurry, though. We need to leave soon if you are going to make it to school on time."

Stiles looked at the clock and jumped when he realized how late it was getting. Erica and Isaac had already left the table and a service submissive was clearing the dirty dishes while Laura and Boyd ate and Peter feigned disinterest as he pretended to read the paper. Derek handed him a plate and watched as he quickly piled it with scrambled eggs and bacon and hurried to the table to eat. Derek filled a bowl with oatmeal and sprinkled it with cinnamon and sugar before adding a dollop of milk to it and stirring as he walked over to sit next to Stiles. They ate in silence, the only sound the scraping of utensils on glassware and the rustle of Peter's newspaper. Stiles finished his breakfast before Derek and watched while Derek finished the last of his oatmeal. When Derek placed his empty bowl on the table, Stiles stood and moved to take the dishes. Derek put a hand on his to stop him, and Stiles looked at him in confusion.

"It's okay, Stiles. The house subs will clear the table," Peter said as he stood up. "I'm sure I'll see you around school at some point. Derek, don't forget our appointment at Deaton's this afternoon."

Derek barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. As if he would possibly forget to be at the magistrate's office to legalize his claim on Stiles. He shot his uncle an irritated look and said, "I'll be taking Stiles after school to purchase our cuffs. Don't worry, we'll be on time."

Peter smirked at him. "See to it that you are." He nodded at them and walked briskly out of the room.

Laura and Boyd rose from their seats. "I should be going as well," Laura said, smiling at Boyd with affection as he handed her briefcase. "I'll see you when you get home this evening. At least say hi before you hustle up to your room to do newly-claimed things to each other, okay? Have a good day at school, Stiles. Good luck on your test." She shot Derek a wicked grin. "Don't wear yourself out too much working off steam, Der. Save some energy for tonight." She laughed when Stiles's cheeks flushed and the tips of Derek's ears turned bright red. Having successfully needled both of them, Laura blew them a kiss and walked out of the dining room with Boyd in tow.

"You are a terrible person and if I didn't like you, I really _wouldn't_ like you!" yelled Derek at her retreating figure. He huffed out an exasperated breath and turned to Stiles, trying not to get distracted by the blush still staining his cheeks. "Do you have everything you need? We really should get going." When Stiles nodded, Derek took his keys out of his pocket. "Good boy. Let's go."

Derek led Stiles to the large multi-car garage. Several vehicles were parked inside and there was a faint odor of gasoline, motor oil and car wax that permeated the place. Derek led Stiles to his black Camaro and unlocked it.

" _This_ is your car?" asked Stiles, eyes wide in surprise.

Derek arched a brow at him. "You were expecting maybe I'd be driving the FJ Cruiser over there?" he asked drily as he pointed towards a Toyota in the corner of the garage before gesturing for Stiles to get in. Once he got Stiles in the car and safely buckled up, Derek cranked the Camaro. The engine roared to life with a loud rumble that dropped to a low growl. He hit the button on his remote to open the automatic garage door and pulled out. It was not a far drive to the school, but he didn't want to chance getting caught in traffic. If he got Stiles to school late, Laura and Peter were sure to assume the worst and make obnoxious comments, and he would be dealing with them enough already as it was. Stiles cracked his window slightly and the breeze that blew in carried his scent to tease at Derek's nostrils. Derek tightened his grip on the steering wheel and wished again that he had just kept Stiles in bed all day, Harris and his stupid test be damned. Stiles tilted his head back and hummed happily, exposing the dark hickeys Derek had left on his neck and causing his wolf to growl possessively. When Stiles licked his lips, it took all of Derek's willpower not to turn the car around and drive straight home, toss Stiles over his shoulder caveman style and carry him up to their bed to show him just how masterful of a Dom he could be.

When he pulled up to the school, Derek breathed a small sigh of relief that he'd made it without losing his cool. Stiles smiled shyly at him from his seat as he gathered up his backpack.

"Well, I guess I'll see you after school. Should I meet you here?" Stiles asked as he opened the car door and moved to get out.

Instead of answering, Derek reached across the console and caught Stiles by the hand. He tugged his submissive towards him and caught his lips in a bruising, possessive kiss that left them both breathless. He ended the kiss with a little nip to Stiles's bottom lip, running his hands lightly over his boy's cheeks and neck, needing to scent him one more time before letting him get out to the car. He leaned in to touch their foreheads together, taking one last breath of their mingled scents before whispering, "Here is fine. Have a good day and be a good boy."

"Yes, sir," breathed Stiles as he clambered out of the car. He headed for the front steps of the school, stopping once to look back to smile and wave at Derek one last time before he disappeared into the crowd.

Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wiggled in the seat, moving to adjust himself where he'd gotten half hard after kissing Stiles, and put the car in drive. He needed to run or jerk off, possibly both. Turning in the direction of the Preserve, he drove quickly, needing to work off some steam. If he didn't, he was not going to make it through cuff shopping or a claiming ceremony without embarrassing himself.

* * *

Stiles walked quickly through the hallway, heading for his locker. He wasn't sure if he was more relieved or disappointed that Derek had stopped kissing him so quickly in the car. His body buzzed with the need to submit, and if Derek had just said the word, Stiles would have done anything he asked. He felt a little out of sorts and wondered if he should find Lydia. She was always able to calm him when he was on edge about anything. He opened his locker and swapped the books in his bag for the ones he would need for morning classes. Just as he slammed the door shut, an excited voice yelled his name, and he braced for impact as Scott came rushing towards him.

"Stiles!" Scott yelped happily as he threw his arms around Stiles in an affectionate hug. "Dude! How was your first night? Are you a man now?" he teased with a huge grin. Before Stiles could answer the smile slid off of Scott's face, his eyes went wide and his nostrils flared. He leaned towards Stiles and took another quick sniff and then stumbled back a couple of steps, shaking his head slightly and rubbing at his nose. He looked so much like a puppy that had had its nose swatted that Stiles had to laugh.

"Is there some sort of problem?" Stiles asked.

Scott rubbed his nose again with a rueful laugh. "It's weird smelling another wolf on you and my wolf isn't sure he likes it," Scott confessed. "I'm not saying I'm jealous or that you smell weird," he said hastily when Stiles looked affronted. "I just mean you smell _different_. You still smell like you, but also like you rolled around in another wolf's scent, and it's just gonna take a little getting used to. So um, anyway how was your first night with your Dom? Was he good to you? Is he all you hoped for? More importantly, have you shredded your V card?"

"Wow, Scott, don't hold back or anything," Stiles shot back as they walked to their first class.

"Well, your neck is covered in hickeys, and you practically reek of sex so I just figured," Scott stated cheerfully. When Stiles sputtered and flushed a deep red, he laughed. "It's cool, man, I'm really happy for you. So gimme the deets man, how was it?"

Stiles punched him in the shoulder and then winced and shook his hand. "Damn werewolves," he groused. "Maybe I'm not the kind of boy to kiss and tell? Did you ever think about that?"

"Hey, don't be embarrassed. You can tell me anything. Besides, it's only fair," protested Scott. "I told you about my first night with Allison."

"I know, I remember," groaned Stiles. "You told me in explicit and excruciating detail. Not enough brain bleach in the world, Scotty. You told me things about you I could have quite happily gone my whole life without knowing."

"And here I am, offering to let you get pay back. You think I _want_ to think about you like that? I'd rather make out with _Jackson_ than think about you getting your freak on. But you're my best friend and this is what best friends do. You don't have to tell me anything but I'm here for you if you ever have questions or just want to talk about stuff," Scott said earnestly as they took their seats in class.

Stiles couldn't help but smile at his best friend. "I know." His smile turned slightly wicked. "To answer your question, though, I'm pretty sure I'm not a virgin anymore. Like, I haven't had any penetrative sex yet, but someone's hand other than mine has touched my dick and there were orgasms involved. It was fucking awesome."

Scott swallowed and gave him a weak smile. "Well, I asked, didn't I?"

"McCall, Stilinski, I hate to interrupt your undoubtedly fascinating conversation, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, perhaps you could turn your attention to the test that I'm passing out instead of yipping like a couple of unruly pups who need to be brought to heel," cut in Dom Harris sarcastically. "McCall, don't think that I won't get your Domme in here again. And Stilinski, you might have somehow managed to miracle your way into being claimed by one of the Hales, but don't expect that to get you any preferential treatment in _my_ class. You step so much as a _toe_ out of line and I'll have you on your knees in the corner so fast your head will spin."

Stiles and Scott both quickly spun to face the front of the class, heads ducked in apology as papers were handed out. The test began and Stiles found it was a struggle to stay focused on it. He felt strangely disconnected somehow, like he was floating in a weird sort of fog, and he couldn't understand what the problem was. He had taken his Adderall before breakfast and hadn't played with his dosage recently so he should have been fine. It was a lucky break that he knew the material well enough to get through the test and turn it in. Stiles was aware of Scott glancing at him from time to time and looking more concerned with each look. By the end of class, Stiles was jiggling his leg under his desk nervously and was beginning to break out in a light sweat.

"Are you alright? You don't look so hot. You aren't getting sick, are you?" Scott asked worriedly as they gathered their bags and walked to their next class. "Did you remember to eat breakfast?"

"Yeah, I ate," Stiles answered as nausea rolled through him. He groaned and leaned against a row of lockers. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I was fine earlier!"

"Stiles? What's wrong?" demanded Lydia. "You look like you're about to pass out." She rushed to him, pushing her way through curious onlookers with Jackson and Danny close behind her. She put a cool hand on his forehead. "You don't _feel_ feverish, but do you need to go to the nurse?"

Stiles shook his head, shivering slightly. "I don't know what the problem is, Lyds. Sorry, I mean Mistress Lydia. I was fine up until just a little while ago. Now I feel all nauseated and weird, like I'm here but not _here_. And my chest has a strange ache in it, like I can't breathe."

Lydia looked at him shrewdly. "It sounds almost like you're experiencing sub sickness."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles ground out as he clutched at his stomach again.

"They'll teach you about it when you start going to new claims class," explained Lydia patiently. "I'm a bit surprised you're having this happen; it usually doesn't occur until much later in a claim when a submissive and Dominant are more attuned to each other, unless—"

"As intriguing as this all is, and with all due respect, can you just tell me what's wrong with me?" Stiles cut Lydia off, blanching as his stomach threatened to rebel.

"Sub sickness happens when a submissive doesn't get dominated over a certain amount of time," Lydia explained. "It can also happen if a submissive gets, uh, _worked up_ , shall we say, and isn't dominated at that time. It's kind of common in new claims where a Dom and sub are learning each other, but like I said, it _usually_ doesn't happen until a submissive is more in tune to their Dom and their body expects a certain amount of dominance. That or…just tell me, were you dominated this morning?"

Stiles' cheeks flushed a deep red that stood out stark against the pallor that had come across him when the nausea first started. "No, but god, are you kidding me? He kissed me goodbye and that's all it takes to set me off?"

Lydia let out a relieved breath and nodded. "So that's all it is. Do you want me to take you to the nurse and have them call Derek to come Dom you?" She asked, placing her hand on Stiles neck and rubbing it lightly.

Stiles leaned into her hand, feeling a little better already just from the familiar touch. "No, let's not do that. I don't want him thinking I'm too needy or clingy or anything like that before our claim is even legal. He's being really considerate and careful not to do anything outside wrong outside of the claim. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" asked Danny in concern as Stiles pushed away from the lockers only to crumple to the floor.

"Yeah, Stilinski," Jackson chimed in. "You aren't looking so great. Like worse than usual."

" _Not now_ , Jackson," snapped Lydia. "Help me get him out of the hallway." They pulled Stiles to his feet and maneuvered him into an empty classroom. He stumbled and nearly fell, wincing as another wave of nausea roiled up through his body.

"Damn it, he can't make it to the nurse's station like this. Scott, go to the front office and find the Headmaster. Tell him what's going on," Lydia instructed, waving him away. When Scott hesitated with a distressed whine, concerned for Stiles, she whirled to face him. " _Now_ , Scott!" she snapped. "Stiles is in real trouble right now and he needs help! I know _what_ to do, but there's only so much I _can_ do. I know that you don't want to leave him but Stiles needs you to do this. I know that Allison is your Domme but right now I need you to follow my instructions and go get the Headmaster so he can call Derek and have him come for Stiles." Scott nodded and with a final worried glance at Stiles, he ran out of the room.

Lydia turned to Jackson and gestured to the corner. "I need you to bring me one of those kneeling pads, my sweet. Hurry, that's my good boy!" Jackson grabbed one of the cushions from the corner and tossed it on the floor. Lydia pushed Stiles towards it, muttering to herself about stubborn submissives who wouldn't call for their Dom when they needed them.

Stiles was breathing in heavy gasps, eerily similar to the panic attacks he had gone through after his mother died. His entire body shook with tremors and his skin was clammy with a cold sweat. "Kneel, Stiles," Lydia ordered in a sharp tone heavy with dominance. He obeyed immediately, dropping to his knees on the cushioned pad.

"Good boy," encouraged Lydia and Stiles' entire body convulsed as it reacted. "Now, I want you to _breathe_. Slowly, now, that's it. One, two, in, out. Now again, with me," she said, breathing in and out as she whipped off the ribbon holding her hair back and used it to tie Stiles' wrists together. The binding seemed to help calm him even more as he matched her breathing, and he finally began to relax. Lydia placed her hand on his neck and began to stroke it, letting the touch comfort and ground him.

"Danny, bring me a chair," she requested softly as Stiles closed his eyes. He was feeling exhausted and his head was hurting, but he finally felt the fog begin to clear. The ribbon around his wrists was snug but not enough to be painful, and he felt as though he was back in his own body again and not about to vibrate out of his skin. Danny brought the requested chair over for Lydia and held it steady for her to sit in. "Good boy, Danny," she praised him as she sat down and encouraged Stiles to lay his head on her knee. He did as she directed, keeping his eyes closed and enjoying the steady touch of her hand running through his hair before resuming its stroking of his neck.

Everyone jumped as door banged open and Scott came running in, followed closely by a concerned Peter. "What's going on here?" he demanded, taking in the sight that greeted him; his nephew's submissive on his knees and bound at the wrists, with his head resting on the knee of one of the school's most gifted Dommes while both of her own submissives stood protectively behind her.

"Headmaster," greeted Lydia calmly. "I'm afraid Stiles was hit with a rather nasty bout of sub sickness. He was already too far gone for us to get him to the nurse without having to carry him and possibly injure him, so we brought him in here. I got him through the worst of it, but I believe he needs his Dom."

Peter started in surprise at her words. "Sub sickness? So soon? They aren't even claimed yet. That's practically unheard of, except in cases where-" He broke off and looked thoughtful. "Well, well. How _very_ interesting," he said, more to himself than to the gathered students who were looking at him curiously, except for Lydia who gave him a knowing look. He walked over and tilted Stiles' face up gently by the chin. "Stiles? Do you think you can stand up now?" he asked.

Stiles nodded weakly. "I think so, Sir."

"That's a good boy," praised Peter as Stiles shakily pushed up from the floor, a bit awkwardly with his wrists bound. Danny stepped over to help support him and Lydia smiled at her submissive proudly. Stiles swayed a bit but was able to stand. When it was apparent that the worst was over, he looked around the room at his friends and gave them an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry, guys," Stiles said softly. "And thanks. I don't know what I would have done without all of you." His breath left him in a woosh as Scott bounded over to him and threw his arms around him tightly.

"Dude, don't do that to me _ever_ again," whispered Scott, distress still evident in his voice. He laid his head on Stiles' shoulder and the two submissives stood together, drawing comfort from each other. Stiles watched as Peter took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Derek," Peter greeted tersely when he answered. "You're needed at the school. It's Stiles."

* * *

Derek rushed around his room, struggling to tug clothes on his still damp body, droplets of water falling onto his shoulders from his barely dried hair. He had gone for a long run in the Preserve and come home to take a hot, leisurely shower where he had jerked off to the memory of Stiles' soft moans and pleas the night before and to the fantasy of having Stiles on his knees before him, those luscious pink lips wrapped around his cock. A strange ache had started in his chest, but he had felt relaxed and clearheaded as he stepped out of the shower. He had just grabbed his towel to dry off when his phone rang with Peter's ring tone. The Alpha never called him while he was working, so Derek answered the call quickly. Peter's words had set him in motion and he had tossed the towel aside, having only haphazardly dried himself off.

Derek cursed under his breath as he ran his belt through the loops of his jeans and located a pair of shoes. He thought for the hundredth time that he should have kept Stiles home with him. There was no way of knowing that Stiles would get hit with sub sickness, especially so early and before they were in any sort of routine, but Derek still felt guilty. He had his keys in hand and was getting into the Camaro when his phone rang again.

"I'm on the way, Lola," he said as he answered the call.

"Hello to you, too, and I figured you were," Laura answered him dryly. "I was calling to let you know Stiles is okay. He's in the nurse's station drinking some water and they are keeping him on his knees for the time being. Lydia did a good job of getting him through the worst. She's still with him now, but he'll feel better with you. He's been excused from classes for the rest of the day."

Derek frowned. "What do you mean, _Lydia_ got him through the worst?"

"He was in really bad shape, Der," Laura said. "I've never seen a case like it at the school, but that's probably because most of the claims here are among the students and the claimed pair aren't apart for long and are able to address needs much more quickly. He had to be dominated, and fast. There was no time for them to get him to the nurse. Lydia put him on his knees and put him through breathing exercises. They're extremely close and she told me she had helped him through panic attacks when they were younger, so she had an idea of what to do. And she kept a cool head throughout it all, which is lucky. That girl is one smart Domme. I know you don't like the idea of another Dominant tending your submissive but it had to be done."

Derek growled low in the back of his throat. He _hated_ the fact that his submissive had to be cared for by another Dominant. It set his wolf on edge and raised his hackles. "I should have kept him home with me," he said flatly. "I should have known better so I could have been there when he needed me." _What kind of Dom am I? I've had him less than a day and I've already failed him._

Laura heaved out a sigh. "Derek, you can't beat yourself up over this. You had no way of knowing he would become ill. Peter says it's extremely rare for it to happen like this. This has no bearing on your ability to be a good Dom! I know you're older and more experienced, but you have to remember this is _your_ first claim, too. There are things you learn along the way once you're in a claim. Sub Clubs don't prepare you for anything like this. There's no way for them to. He's going to be just fine, I promise, and you getting here is going to make him that much better."

Derek turned into the school entryway and parked in the staff parking lot. "I'm here," he said as he got out and locked the car behind him. "I'll be inside in just a second."

"Alright," said Laura. "I have class so I probably won't see you, but we'll talk later."

Derek hit the end button without answering and strode into the office where he quickly signed himself in and Stiles out. He nodded in response to the greeting the secretary behind the desk called out and briskly made his way to the nurse's office. When he walked in, he tensed at the sight of Stiles on his knees with his hands bound at the wrist, kneeling with his head in Lydia's lap. His eyes were closed as she ran her fingers through his hair. Jealousy snaked through him and it took all he had not to demand that she get away from his submissive. Reminding himself that she had helped Stiles in his time of need, he cleared his throat gruffly to alert them to his presence. Stiles jerked upright and Derek felt mollified somewhat by the relief in his boy's eyes when they met his.

"Derek! Sir!" Stiles said, relaxing noticeably. He looked down, kneeling with his bound hands on his knees and in perfect submissive posture. Derek felt a hot surge race through him all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and back up to center in his groin. He walked over to Stiles and cupped his cheek gently, catching his breath when his boy nuzzled into his hand. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Stiles nodded, eyes looking slightly more focused. "Yeah. Better now that you're here, Sir," he confessed.

"Good," Derek answered, keeping his hand reassuringly on his submissive. He turned to Lydia and nodded at her. "I owe you my thanks," he said gruffly. He wanted to push Stiles behind him and demand that she never touch him again, but he knew he was being irrational and that Lydia truly had done him a favor.

"Stiles is one of my best friends," Lydia stated simply as she stood up, her eyes never leaving Derek's. "I was happy to be there when he needed me." She looked at Stiles and her eyes softened for a moment before she turned back to Derek. She stepped to him and placed a hand on his arm. "Take good care of him," she entreated softly. "He has so much to offer a dominant." She gathered her things and crossed over to Stiles, who was still kneeling quietly. "Take care, Stiles. Be good," she said with a quick caress of his neck, much to Derek's displeasure. She gave Derek a brief nod before exiting the room.

Derek tamped down his irritation and jealousy. Stiles was his priority now and he needed to focus on him. He ran his thumb lightly over Stiles' lower lip, smiling when his eyes fluttered shut. "Let's get you home," he said quietly. "We can lay down for a while before lunch, and then if you're feeling better we can go cuff shopping earlier than we originally planned. Do you need me to keep your wrists bound?"

Stiles looked at his hands in surprise as though he had forgotten all about them. "No, I think I'll be okay. Honestly, I feel so much better now. My chest isn't hurting or anything. Thank you for coming to get me, I'm really sorry you had to."

Derek looked at him in surprise. "Don't be ridiculous. While we're claimed I'll always take care of you."

Stiles shifted on his feet and pinned Derek with his warm, honey colored gaze. "Okay," he whispered.

Derek pulled on the ribbon to loosen it and free Stiles' wrists. A faint outline was pressed into his skin, but it hadn't been tight enough to hurt or affect the circulation. Derek grudgingly had to admit that Lydia Martin knew what she was doing. The ribbon carried the scent of her shampoo and he looked at it with a faint hint of distaste before dropping it in the nearby trashcan. There was a hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall and he squirted some in his hand and rubbed them together briskly while he waited for Stiles to get his things together.

When Stiles was ready, Derek put a hand on the small of his back, knowing the touch of his Dom would help to keep him steady. He led Stiles out of the school and to his car. He silently opened the passenger side door and motioned for Stiles to put his bag in the backseat before helping his still shaky submissive into the car. Once he was sure Stiles was arranged comfortably in the seat, Derek buckled the seatbelt for him and shut the door. He jogged around to the drivers' side and hopped in. The sooner he got Stiles home, the better.

They rode home in silence, Derek still mentally berating himself but keeping a reassuring hand on Stiles' knee. In the close quarters of the car he became aware that not only did Stiles smell heavily of Lydia, he also smelled like another werewolf. His wolf paced restlessly in his chest at what it felt like was a challenge to his claim, but he didn't want to upset Stiles any further by giving in to his baser instincts. Forcing himself to keep his voice casual, he said, "You smell like another wolf."

Stiles chuckled weakly. "That's the second time I've heard that today."

Derek waited a moment for him to elaborate, and unable to help himself, prompted, "Is that right?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. My best friend Scott is a werewolf." He laughed softly before continuing. "He said this morning that I smelled like I'd been rolling around in another wolf's scent. After the sickness passed he was pretty clingy, so I'm not really surprised I smell like him now. He's more like my brother than my best friend so I'll probably smell like him a lot. He told it would take his wolf some time to get used to your scent on me so I'm guessing it's the same for you? I'm sorry if it makes you upset or uncomfortable but Scott isn't anyone to worry about. He's stupid in love with his Domme and straighter than a ruler."

Derek silently nodded as he turned the car into the Hale driveway. He pulled up to the front door and one of the house subs hurried out to meet them. Derek got out and tossed him the keys, then crossed around to open the door and help Stiles out himself.

"Come on," Derek said gently. "Let's go to our room. Just leave your bag, we'll get it later." He kept a hand on Stiles' waist as he guided him up the stairs. Once they got inside the bedroom, he guided Stiles into the bathroom and started warm water running in the Jacuzzi tub. "Go ahead and take your clothes off."

"You mean right now?" Stiles squeaked.

Derek walked over and took Stiles gently by the shoulders. "You were very sick, Stiles. A nice, warm bath will do you a world of good. We can turn on the jets and it will soothe you and relax your muscles. Don't take this the wrong way," he said wryly, "but right now you smell strongly of another dominant and another wolf, and it's early enough in our relationship that it's putting me and my wolf on edge. I'm not angry with you, but I need to get those scents off of you so I can scent you again myself. Plus right now I really need to take care of you. Will you let me do that? Do you trust me to take care of you?"

Stiles' eyes were huge in his pale face. He swallowed heavily and nodded his head jerkily. "I-yes, sir. I do. I trust you."

Derek gave him a small but pleased smile. "Thank you. Now if it will make you feel more comfortable right now, I'll turn my back this time while you strip, but I'm not leaving. You're still weak from earlier and I don't want you unattended. Having said that, you will need to get used to me seeing you without clothes. So really there's no time like the present."

It seemed that Stiles hesitated for a mere breadth of a moment, but he swallowed hard and nodded. Derek leaned against the wall and watched with open interest. He had gotten tantalizing glimpses of his submissive's body the night before, but now he could look his fill in the light of day.

Stiles moved agonizingly slow as he kicked off his shoes and socks and began removing his clothes. Were it not for the anxious pounding of his heart and the smell of nervousness coming from him, he could have been doing an unhurried tease. Derek stayed where he was, still and calm, breathing evenly. His appreciative gaze watched as the barrier of clothing disappeared, Stiles first peeling off his shirts and then tugging his jeans down and kicking his legs free, until finally bare flesh was exposed. Derek was a bit surprised as he realized just how much the baggy jeans and layers of flannel and cotton did to camouflage the strength and beauty of the boy's frame. Stiles had broad shoulders with a smoothly muscled chest and toned stomach. A dark line of hair led down from below his navel and disappeared into the briefs he still wore. Dark moles were sprinkled across his back and his cotton covered ass looked round and firm. His thighs were nicely muscled and Derek instinctively knew they would feel amazing wrapped around his waist, holding him while he thrust into his submissive.

A quick glance at the tub showed that it was ready. "I'm going to turn the water off now," Derek said so as not to startle Stiles by suddenly moving from where he'd been standing in silent admiration. He walked to the tub and turned the water off, then turned back and held a hand out to Stiles. "I'll help you in before I turn the jets on. Go ahead and take your briefs off."

Stiles bit his lower lip and looked away as he shimmied out of his briefs, the innocent sensuality nearly causing Derek to groan out loud. Seeing his submissive fully nude for the first time wasn't helping. Even Stiles' s cock was pretty, lying pink and soft between his legs and surrounded by a thatch of dark curls. Derek could see his ass in the reflection of the mirror and it was just as delightfully round as his form-fitting briefs had hinted. When Stiles placed his hand in Derek's, it took iron-clad control not to simply pull his boy to him and run his hands over every inch of newly exposed skin. A hint of Lydia's perfume wafted to him in the increasingly warm air and reminded Derek that he had a dual purpose in bathing his submissive.

"Come on, then, in you go," Derek said as he helped Stiles into the tub. Once he was in the water and reclined back, Derek hit the button to activate the jets. A pleasured sigh escaped Stiles as they massaged his body, and Derek curled his hands into fists, claws pricking at the surface of skin. Reminding himself yet again that he was an experienced dominant, he pulled a small stool to the side of the tub and rested his forearms on the edge. He watched quietly as Stiles relaxed in the bubbling water with his eyes closed, skin flushing pink from the heat and muscles slowly losing their tension. Derek almost hated to make him move, but he was feeling the need to hold his boy close to him in their bed.

"Stiles, get your hair wet for me and I'll start getting you cleaned up," Derek said as he grabbed a bottle of his own shampoo.

* * *

Stiles jumped slightly in the warm water. He had been so relaxed he had nearly dozed off. It was a pleasant surprise that he was already comfortable enough in Derek's presence that he could let his guard down completely. Sleepily opening his eyes, he looked at his Dom. Derek's eyes were framed by dark lashes and were an intense green.

"Wet your hair for me, Stiles. I don't expect to have to repeat myself," Derek said softly.

Stiles shivered and his eyelashes fluttered as submission flowed through him, as warm and soothing as the bath he relaxed in. "Yes Sir," he whispered. Ducking under the water, he thoroughly wet his hair as he was told. When he sat up and wiped the water from his face, Derek already had shampoo in his hand and was ready. His Dom rubbed his hands together and began massaging it into his wet hair in slow, steady movements, using his nimble fingers to rub gently into Stiles' scalp. A low moan of pleasure escaped from Stiles as his eyes closed again. He noticed that Derek was using his own shampoo instead of what he had brought from home, and the idea of smelling so like his Dom was a pleasing one.

When Derek stopped shampooing his hair and rinsed his hands off, Stiles ducked under water to rinse the suds from his hair. When he broke the surface of the water again, Derek was ready for him, this time with body wash. Instead of using a washcloth or loofah, his Dom had poured the soap into his hands and was again rubbing them together in order to cover both hands with it. Stiles felt Derek nudge with one elbow, urging him to lean forward, and when he obeyed, Derek started rubbing his hands slowly over the warm, wet skin. A whimper nearly escaped from Stiles' parted lips when Derek began massaging his shoulders, working out any remaining tension there before moving lower, rubbing over his spine before dipping below the surface of the water to tease at the crack of his ass before moving back up again. The bubbling jets continued to pulsate against his skin as his Dom caressed him all over, the mix of sensations tantalizing to his senses.

When Derek's hand slipped down to grasp his now hard cock, Stiles couldn't stop the moan that tumbled from his lips. His Dom teased him for the very briefest of moments before moving away to continue his ministrations elsewhere, and Stiles made a low noise of frustration. He reached down to stroke himself and jerked in surprise when a firm hand stopped him.

"No, Stiles," Derek said firmly. "I'm taking care of you. That can wait." His voice dropped to a silky whisper. "Remember, all your orgasms are going to belong to me. You won't touch yourself unless I allow it, and I'll know if you disobey me."

Stiles shivered as Derek's warm breath tickled the outer shell of his ear, and he could have sworn he felt the warm tickle of tongue teasing the delicate skin. He laid his head back again and relaxed against the slope of the tub, feeling pleasantly boneless. There was a soft sound of rustling, and Stiles cracked his eyes open a sliver to see Derek removing his clothes and dropping them to the floor to stand there in his boxer briefs.

"Okay," said Derek as he turned off the water jets. "Let's get you dried off and we'll go lay down for a while." Stiles watched quietly as Derek unstopped the tub to allow the water to run out. When his Dom offered him a hand to help him up, Stiles took it and carefully stood up. A large, soft towel dried his hair before wrapping around him, and strong arms held him close for a moment before guiding him back into the bedroom.

Stiles stood by the edge of the bed while Derek carefully dried him off with the towel. He felt loose and pliant, even though he was still half hard. When Derek nipped at his neck before nuzzling his favorite spot, Stiles hummed happily.

"Better," Derek said approvingly. "I don't smell anyone else on you now. You smell more like me."

"I like it," Stiles admitted with a soft smile. "I don't smell things the same way you do, but I do like the smell of your soap and shampoo." He tilted his head back to expose his neck and the marks he knew were there. A low rumble came from his Dom, and strong arms wrapped around him from behind as Derek began rubbing his face against his neck, his stubble scraping against the sensitive skin. Stiles relaxed back against him, content to let Derek hold him up while scenting him thoroughly. He could feel Derek's hard cock pressed against him, trapped in its confines, and it made him feel felt warm, safe and desired.

When Stiles felt Derek moving him to the edge of the bed, he complied with the unspoken order and climbed onto the bed. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow and watched with interest as Derek moved to the foot of the bed and opened the trunk there. He appeared to be looking for something in particular as he rummaged around, finally making a grunt of satisfaction when he found what he was seeking. When he closed the trunk, Stiles saw he was holding a black satin blindfold.

"So _that's_ where you keep the fun things!" Stiles said with a grin. "I thought maybe you kept everything in a toy room or something."

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't think I had my own personal collection? The toy room is fine if we want to use it, but there are certain things I like having within close reach."

"So there _is_ a toy room? Holy shit, that's so cool! What else do you have in the trunk though?" Stiles asked.

Derek smirked at him. "That's for me to know and for you to find out as I see fit." He sat on the edge of the bed and ran one hand lightly down Stiles' side and over his hip. He then held up the blindfold in his other hand. "Do you trust me?"

Stiles nodded. He felt his submission tugging at him from deep within his core and knew without any doubt that Derek was going to take care of him. He closed his eyes and sighed softly when he felt the cool satin against his skin. The blindfold was tied snugly but not to the point of being uncomfortable. He felt Derek's hands arranging him on the pillows and wrapping him up in a soft blanket so that his arms were close against his chest. Within just a short moment the bed sunk behind him as Derek climbed on the bed and a muscular arm wrapped around him to pull him back against an equally muscular chest. The touch of his Dom was reassuring and made him feel secure even as he floated in a pleasantly warm and lazy haze.

"Sleep is what you need right now," Derek's words were spoken directly into his ear, his voice low and comforting. "I'm right here and I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Wow, okay. So it has been embarrassingly long since I updated, and I am so sorry. I know it seems I am always apologizing, aren't I? However, I recently completed another WIP, and that was pretty much where my limited writing time went. To say that real life has been chaotic would actually be an understatement; if I had time where I could try to write, I was often too exhausted to really be able to give it my best. This chapter is a bit of a monster, and I really hope it was worth the wait... *crosses fingers***
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> **Fun fact: the prank Derek tells Stiles about with the Ronald McDonald statue is what my friends and I did our senior year. I still can't believe we did that.**
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> **All my love to[Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com) for the read-through and suggestions that I think helped me improve parts of this, and my thanks to [Sies](http://kurtsweenie.tumblr.com) for her mad beta skillz, even though she has been RL crazy as well. Kisses to [Sam](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com) for being my cheerleader and keeping me from losing my mind over this update.**
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> **[Beth](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com) made me this beautiful graphic, and I am just a little in love with it. Thank you so much, my darling! u3u**
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* * *

Derek lay quietly next to Stiles, watching as his submissive slept. The blindfold hid those magnificent eyes from his view, but Stiles' heartbeat was the slow, steady rhythm of slumber and his body was relaxed. Derek absentmindedly rubbed his boy's back while his mind raced in a whirlwind of thoughts. Guilt and confusion warred with each other as he tried to figure out why Stiles had been hit so hard and so quickly with sub sickness. He had been trying very hard to act within the accepted parameters of an intended (but not yet claimed) couple. It was polite tradition to wait until a claim was legal and cuffs in place before dominating a submissive, and Derek fully intended to do this the right way, even though his wolf had been howling for him to put his boy on his knees from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him. All he had wanted was to be the best first Dom for Stiles that he could be, and in typical fashion had managed to mess it up spectacularly instead.

It still didn't make sense to him for Stiles to get sub sickness already. They had only spent one night together, and while it had been pleasurable and hot, it hadn't involved any sort of power exchange. Their bodies couldn't possibly be in any sort of touch with each other yet; they'd had no time to discuss their contract and what it would entail, so there were no expectations or responsibilities in place. Even more confusing, Stiles wasn't adjusting to a change from one Dom to another. He had never been instructed in a claim, so that need shouldn't even have manifested yet. How had a simple kiss goodbye have triggered such a severe case?

Stiles whimpered softly in his sleep, his face scrunching up slightly. Derek made a low shushing noise while moving his hand to soothingly stroke his submissive's neck until he quieted again. The pale skin there was soft and warm, and the dark marks he had made the previous night stood out in stark contrast, making his wolf rumble complacently. Derek draped his body along Stiles' back, letting his weight press against his submissive in a way commonly known to provide comfort. Without thinking, he leaned forward to bury his nose in the tender curve of neck and shoulder before rubbing his cheek along the column of his boy's throat. The need to scent his submissive was a strong one and he saw no problem in indulging himself. Stiles smelled like Derek's soap and shampoo, but his own scent of fresh rain was still underlying and recognizable, and just as intoxicating, especially where his pulse beat steadily just under the surface of his skin.

Derek wasn't used to this strange feeling of almost contentment with his life. While a part of him still wanted to resent Peter for making him take on a submissive, he couldn't deny that he was looking forward to claiming Stiles fully. He had never thought he would find himself in his bed with a submissive of his own, wrapped snugly and sleeping placidly by his side as a result of his care. Doms were trained to care for a submissive in all aspects, it was an instinct they worked to develop fully in order to provide properly for their chosen sub. Since Derek had always used sub clubs, he hadn't been required to provide more than the very basics of aftercare for the subs he played with. They had a staff of dominants who did nothing but tend to the subs that worked there, including taking care of them after a scene. But he had never had any kind of emotional attachment before. If just the act of bathing Stiles had given him this much satisfaction, Derek decided that taking care of him after they played would be nothing short of amazing. This boy with his incredible eyes and sinful mouth was already getting under his skin, and he had yet to explore his submissiveness fully. Once he was wearing Derek's cuff, Stiles would be even more irresistible to him.

It occurred to Derek as he dozed off that there was a very distinct possibility he might just be in a lot of trouble.

* * *

Wakefulness crept up on Stiles slowly. He was aware of the sensation of warmth and safety cocooning him, much like the blanket he was wrapped in. There was a pleasantly comforting weight pressed along his back and he could feel hard arms holding him while stubble lightly scraped the tender flesh under his ear. The presence of his Dom was a welcome one, and Stiles smiled as he slowly stretched, eyes fluttering open under the satiny blindfold he still wore. He felt pliant and relaxed, none the worse for wear after his harrowing morning.

"Feeling better?" Derek murmured in his ear.

"Yes, Sir," Stiles answered readily. He shifted back a bit to cuddle against his Dom and tilted his head back to rest it against Derek's shoulder. The movement exposed his throat and he felt a low rumble from Derek's chest, then a light nip of teeth that made him gasp softly. A warm tongue swiped over the small mark before stubble rasped against him again.

It seemed Derek was partial to Stiles baring his neck to him. He would have to keep that in mind.

"How long did I sleep?" he asked, content to lie still in Derek's arms.

"Just a couple of hours," Derek replied. "It's a little after one right now. Do you feel up to eating something?"

Stiles' stomach answered for him, growling loudly at the mention of food. He laughed self-consciously and said, "That counts as a yes, right?"

"I think so," Derek chuckled. "Well, I don't want it said that I starve my submissive. We'll have lunch and then we can go look for cuffs. You feel well enough to go out, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Stiles nodded. He felt great; rested, warm, and safe, with the weight of his Dom draped reassuringly over him. He was comfortable enough that he could normally be tempted to stay right where he was, but the promise of food and the excitement of getting his cuff was enough to easily overcome that.

"Good," Derek said, leaning back and huffing with amusement when Stiles protested the loss of contact. "If you think you're ready then I'll go ahead and remove the blindfold now."

"Yeah, I think I'm good," Stiles replied. He felt the ties loosening at the back of his head and blinked as the dark satin fell away. The sudden brightness of the room was disorienting and it took a moment for him to adjust. He felt Derek's soothing hand on his neck and leaned into it. When he felt he could see normally again, Stiles sat up and let the blankets fall into his lap. He rubbed his arms and smiled brightly at his Dom. "So, when do we eat?"

* * *

Derek had forgotten just how much food a teenage boy could put away. His own mother used to tease him fondly for the amount of food she had to keep in the house just to feed him and his friends. Now he watched in fascination as Stiles happily accepted a third sandwich from Libby, the motherly house submissive who served as their cook and already looked to have a soft spot for him, while he was only part way through his own. There was nothing wrong with it; the bread was freshly baked and piled high with slices of ham and turkey, lettuce, tomato, and the perfect amounts of mayonnaise and mustard—yellow, of course, because Derek disliked brown mustard. It was to his exact specifications, but he kept getting distracted by his submissive.

It was almost disconcerting for Derek just how easily it was to lose himself in Stiles already. He couldn't deny he was looking forward to this weekend with a huge sense of anticipation. Stiles laughed at something the beaming house sub said and tossed his head back, once again exposing the glorious stretch of skin along his neck and causing Derek to swallow hard against the sudden dryness of his mouth. Two days suddenly seemed woefully inadequate and Derek started wondering if it might not be a good idea to call Laura and have her get Stiles' school assignments for the next week (or two) and just keep his boy home and to himself. Education was important, but he found himself feeling resentful of anything that took his submissive from him, even for just a few hours. Something about Stiles inspired a new sort of hunger in Derek that he hadn't ever known before, and it was more than a little unnerving.

Even now, Derek could feel his wolf urging him to put off shopping to drag Stiles back upstairs. Here he was, a Dom with years of experience, ready to drag this boy into the pantry and rut against him until he came in his pants like a newly tattooed dominant that was still wet behind the ears. It probably should have been more embarrassing, but as Derek watched while Stiles pulled his sandwich apart with long, elegant fingers to add a layer of chips to it, he found he couldn't be bothered by it. He suppressed a shudder when Stiles licked mustard off one finger and decided that shopping was an excellent idea after all. He needed the distraction if he was going to be able resist dominating Stiles before he claimed him properly.

When Stiles wrapped his perfect lips around the straw he was drinking from and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked soda up, Derek concluded then and there that the universe hated him. He put his half eaten sandwich down on his plate and pushed it away, shifting in his seat and trying to will his very interested cock back into submission. Dominance was coursing through his veins like a sultrily wicked song, and the hunger he felt right now wasn't going to be satisfied with food. If he was going to survive to make it to and through the claiming ceremony, he needed to distract himself quickly.

"Are you alright, Mister Derek? Is your sandwich not to your liking today?" Libby asked him in concern, eyes cast down respectfully.

Derek felt a little bad. Libby had worked for his family for years, even before the fire. She had known Derek since he was a prepubescent boy having to learn how to control his wolf during the full moon and he was actually quite fond of her. He was grateful that she was a human and couldn't smell the barely contained lust he knew had to be coming off him in waves, although he was sure she sensed his tension. She worried over him like a mother, even now that he was fully grown, and he didn't want her worrying now.

"Everything's fine, Lib," Derek said as he rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "We just have to get going soon. We want to have time to find suitable cuffs and be sure we get to the magistrate on time. If you'll wrap it up and put it in the fridge I'll eat it later."

Stiles sat up straighter in his chair and grinned at Libby before stuffing the last bite of sandwich in his mouth. "Yeah, yeah! Cuff shopping! I'm finally gonna be cuffed!" he said excitedly while still chewing, waving his left arm around and indicating towards his currently bare wrist with the other hand.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Stiles," Derek chided absentmindedly, finding himself focused once again on his submissive's lips as he grinned and apologized. "We need to get going."

Derek steeled himself as they walked out to the garage to get in his car. It was going to be a slow and maddening form of torture to be in a small, enclosed space with Stiles again, being surrounded by that scent that was so very tempting. Fortunately for him, traffic was light and the mall wasn't that far. Before long they were in the premiere boutique Laura had recommended he try first, standing in front of a large cuff display.

In truth, Derek hated the mall. It was always too noisy, filled with people chatting loudly with either a companion or on their cell phones, screaming children, and multiple types of music pouring from different stores. The smells were even worse; the mix of different foods coming from the food court, the dyes of the materials on the racks, the sweaty undertones of humanity, and Derek was positive there was a child in the vicinity that was in desperate need of a diaper change. None of that mattered to him at that moment, though, because Stiles was standing next to him with wide eyes that glowed amber in their excitement.

"They're all so nice. I don't even know where to start," Stiles breathed reverently.

Derek decided that he could deal with the mall for a bit if it made his boy smile like that. "Do you see anything you like? We can always go somewhere else if you don't see one that interests you."

As if on cue, a sales associate appeared across the counter from them. Her name tag denoted her as a manager and her red tattoo indicated her dominant status. "Hello, Sir," she greeted Derek with a pleasant smile. "What can I do for you today?"

Derek returned her direct gaze. "I am looking to buy cuffs for my submissive and myself, Ma'am."

She nodded and smiled even wider. "A new claim! How exciting for you. We have a wide variety of cuffs to choose from, as you can see. Wide leather, thin bands, even metal if you prefer. If you wanted a custom cuff, say a different color or special engraving, we offer that as well. Did you or your submissive want to try anything on? I'll be happy to take anything out of the case for you to look at more closely."

While Derek was talking with the sales manager, he had seen Stiles looking closely at several cuffs. He turned to him and asked, "Did you want her to show you any of these?"

Stiles nodded, eyes shining with an eagerness that made Derek want to suck another dark mark on his neck. "I see a few I wouldn't mind looking at on that second shelf," he answered, indicating a black velvet lined tray with several cuffs displayed on it and nearly vibrating in his enthusiasm.

She unlocked the case and pulled the tray out to place it on top of the glass counter. She smiled at Derek one more time and then nodded once before stepping over to assist another customer.

"This one is kind of cool! Dig that spiral!" Stiles said enthusiastically, picking up a cuff made of thin strips of leather joined by a silver medallion.

Derek recognized the design immediately. He had a larger version of it on his back that Stiles hadn't even seen yet. Strange how Stiles would pick that up first. "It's called a triskelion," he said quietly. "Is that the one you like?"

Stiles looked at it ponderingly for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think so. I really like the triskelion, but I'm not sure about the actual cuff itself." He replaced the cuff on the tray and picked up another one made of brown leather to examine it.

Derek felt a fleeting sense of disappointment. The idea of Stiles wearing a cuff with his tattoo rather appealing, but he wanted his boy to have something he liked. He quietly examined some cuffs for himself while keeping an eye on Stiles, who picked up several cuffs and looked them over closely before shaking his head and putting them back. When he had looked at them all, the sales manager returned the shelf to the display case and pulled out another one. Derek found a cuff for himself that he liked, a smooth and supple black leather that fit well but had some give to it to move with his wolf shifts. It was plain with a silver buckle and appealed to him. When Stiles looked up from his third tray of cuffs he was looking over, Derek held the cuff out to him.

"I like this one for myself. What do you think?" Derek asked. He held it out to Stiles, who took it and looked it over carefully. He ran his fingers over the soft leather and nodded in satisfaction.

"Yeah, I think that actually suits you pretty well. A bit understated but inherently sexy. Very classy. I approve," Stiles said with an almost shy smile.

Derek felt his cheeks heating up as Stiles' words sunk in. His submissive had just called him sexy and only the fact that Stiles hadn't chosen a cuff for himself yet kept Derek from dragging him back out to his car and speeding home to the privacy of his bedroom. He shifted on his feet and tried not to feel impatient as Stiles had the sales associate pull out yet another tray for him to look through. He was just about to repeat his offer to go elsewhere to look for a cuff when he heard Stiles' heartbeat pick up and his breath hitch.

"Look at _this_ ," Stiles said in an almost whisper as he picked up the cuff that had caught his attention and handed it to Derek.

Derek took it and looked it over. It was made of a similar leather to his own but was not quite as wide. Instead of buckles, it had a clasp that fastened it around the wrist. The clasp was a silver circle that was engraved with an image of a full moon. Under the moon was a wolf seated on its haunches and its head lifted in a howl. He quirked a brow at Stiles and asked, "Really? This is the one you like?"

Stiles ducked his head and blushed. The faintly bitter scent of embarrassment and uncertainty wafted off of him, making Derek wish he hadn't said anything, especially when Stiles set the cuff down and muttered, "Never mind, I'm just being...I'll keep looking."

Derek inwardly castigated himself as he put a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Hey," he said quietly. When Stiles didn't say anything, he placed a finger under his chin and gently urged him to tilt his head up. "Stiles, no. Look at me, please." When Stiles finally raised his eyes to meet Derek's, he smiled at him. "There, that's better. Now, I want you to get what you want, okay? If you want that cuff, it's yours. I guess I just didn't expect you to go with something depicting a wolf."

"Too cliché?" Stiles joked feebly.

"No," Derek said firmly. "Anyone who thinks it is can say it to my face."

Stiles cast his eyes downward again. "I like it," he said softly. "You're my Dom, and you're also a werewolf. That's like, a huge part of you and that's important to me. I'm _proud_ to be your submissive, you know?"

Derek stared at Stiles, surprise rendering him speechless. His wolf had been the thing about him that Kate had hated the most, had been the reason she deceived and tricked him and ultimately took nearly everything from him. In New York there had been a Sub Club that catered exclusively to werewolves, and the submissives who worked there were known as _lobo locos_ , subs who specifically wanted to be dommed by wolves. He had gone there a couple of times before the novelty wore off. Derek was used to being desired for his body or for being a wolf, but he was unprepared for the clear honesty he saw in Stiles' eyes. His heartbeat never wavered and Derek knew he was being truthful.

Derek was so screwed.

Picking up both the wolf cuff and the one he had chosen for himself, he caught the sales manager's eye and walked to the register.

"Very nice selections," she remarked as gave Derek the total, hiding her smile as Stiles' eyes widened at the amount she said. Derek handed her his credit card without even batting an eyelash, and declined her offer to gift wrap the cuffs for them.

"No thanks, if you can just bag them for us we can be on our way," Derek said. They would be exchanging the cuffs soon enough and he didn't want the hassle of unwrapping them during the ceremony. He was ready to leave the chaotic hustle and bustle of the mall behind, with all its warring sounds and smells. He signed the credit slip and waited impatiently as she wrapped each cuff in protective paper before slipping them into a bag embossed in silver with the store name. Stiles stood quietly next to him and Derek found himself wanting to touch his submissive. Giving into his urge, Derek put a hand on Stiles' neck and rubbed his thumb lightly over the dark mark he'd left below his ear earlier. The touch grounded him somehow and made him feel less agitated, and his wolf felt appeased some when Stiles closed his eyes, lashes fluttering in obvious enjoyment. When the manager handed Derek the bag, her eyes flickered over the dark marks on Stiles' neck and she smiled knowingly. She thanked Derek for his business, then gave him a sly wink and mouthed, _"he's adorable"_ as she handed him the bag.

Derek acknowledged her comment with a nod. He took Stiles by the hand and led him out to the car. It was still a bit early yet for their appointment with the magistrate, but Derek decided he might as well drive them there. It was better to be early than late. The last thing he needed was to lose their spot and end up having to reschedule their claiming for next week. There was no way he would make it through the weekend; his wolf was on edge as it was with the need to claim his submissive.

A sideways glance showed Stiles fidgeting with the handles of the boutique bag that held the cuffs. His knee jiggled with nerves. Needing to break the heavy silence that permeated the air inside the car, Derek asked, "So have you considered what terms you want for our contact?"

Stiles huffed out a soft laugh. "I've been thinking of what I wanted for my first claim since my tattooing. I guess that seems kind of silly, huh?"

"I don't think so," stated Derek firmly. "I think it's smart for you to have been thinking about it. I also want you to know that if you ever want to change terms during our claim, I'm open to negotiating. I want you to always feel comfortable, and I understand that people can change. So while our contract is binding it's not written in stone, okay?"

Stiles blinked at him in surprise, then nodded. "Okay. Thank you for that. Hopefully we won't need to do anything like that, but it's good to know we have that option on the table." His knee continued to bounce up and down, and Derek finally put his hand on it to still the movements.

"Are you nervous?" Derek asked. He already knew the answer; he could smell the anxiety pouring off of Stiles in sharp waves and could hear his heart pounding. He was so bad at this. He wanted to put Stiles at ease but he found he had no idea what to do.

"Yeah, I am," confessed Stiles. "Like, on one hand I'm really excited and happy, but on the other I feel kind of like I'm going to pass out. I feel like my heart's gonna beat out of my chest. I'm going to be fine, though." He gave Derek a mischievous grin. "My dad says before his first claim he was so nervous he actually threw up. I don't think I'm that bad."

Derek squeezed his knee reassuringly. "Good to know my interior is safe," he said casually, hiding a grin.

Stiles stared at him in surprise, then laughed. "Did you just...you totally just made a joke, didn't you?"

There was something about Stiles' laughter that caused a pleasant flutter low in Derek's belly. He decided he rather enjoyed the sound. There was something open and genuine about it, and he hoped he heard more of it during the course of their claim.

They made small talk as they drove. Derek discovered Stiles had a fondness for curly fries. Stiles learned that Derek had been the star center of the dominants basketball team when he'd been in school. Derek chuckled when he found out Stiles had let Dom Finstock call him Bilinski for two weeks running because it meant he got playing time on the lacrosse field. Stiles laughed so hard he had to wipe away tears when Derek told him the tale of how he and his buddies stole a statue of Ronald McDonald from a local McDonalds and put it in the football stadium for their senior year prank. Conversation flowed easily between them and before Derek knew it, he was parking the car in front of the magistracy.

As he linked his fingers with Stiles' to walk into the office, Derek could hardly believe his luck. He wasn't much of a talker normally, and he usually found it difficult to listen to anyone for very long without feeling bored or even annoyed. When he scened with submissives in the past, he kept it to necessary conversation only. Yet he had the feeling that he could happily listen to Stiles chat about just about anything and participate in the conversation without feeling put upon. He found himself wondering if Stiles was going to be a talker in the bedroom as well. Would he be able to make him babble incoherently or maybe silence him instead? Derek decided he preferred the former. He couldn't wait to hear what Stiles had to say when he was being pushed to his limits or begging for release. A gag might be fun, but somehow Derek got the idea that listening to each whimper or plea from Stiles' perfect mouth would be even better.

When they walked into the main lobby there was a woman seated at a desk behind a sliding glass window. When they approached her, she slid the window open. "May I help you?" she asked.

"We have an appointment for Hale and Stilinski at 5:30," answered Derek.

The woman pulled up a schedule on her computer screen and peered closely at it. "Ah, yes, here we are. Let me get you to step over to the kiosk there and sign in, Dom Hale. We will be with you shortly." She slid the window closed and began typing on her computer.

Derek stepped over to the indicated kiosk and tapped the screen to start. It was a relief not to have to fill out paperwork for this part. Completing the information was quick and once the machine had scanned their IDs, they sat down in the waiting room. The chairs didn't look particularly comfortable, but there were vending machines in one corner and a big screen television was playing yet another paternity test results episode on Maury Povich. Derek bought them both a soda and got Stiles a bag of chips before sitting down next to him

"I never know if I should be amused or appalled by these shows," said Stiles, crunching on the chips as he watched a weeping submissive talk about her former Dom denying her child. "Like, get this dude! Saying he isn't the dad because they only slept together unprotected once! How does he think this works, anyway? He's got three other kids already, you'd think he'd have figured this out by now." He cackled as the potential baby daddy walked out on the stage to massive boos from the audience. "You don't know me! You don't know nothin' about me!" he mocked along with the television. When Maury pulled out the results envelope, Stiles leaned further on the edge of his chair in anticipation. "You _ARE_ the father! Booyah!"

"I think we need to put a limit on how much trash TV you watch," observed Derek dryly.

"Whatever," snorted Stiles. "I'm sure you have some guilty pleasure show you watch. What is it? Real Housewives? Jersey Shore? RuPaul's Drag Race? You don't seem like the X-Factor type."

"I think Derek is rather partial to Hell's Kitchen," said Peter as he walked over to them. "Something about Gordon Ramsay's expletive laced tirades is fascinatingly entertaining."

"More like trying to figure out just how some of those people even made it through the tryout process. There is some seriously scary stuff happening in those kitchens," grinned Stiles.

Derek had stood up when Peter joined them. "They should be calling us back soon, Uncle," he said. He hoped he sounded calm and nonchalant, but the knowing smirk Peter gave him said otherwise. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in and Derek found himself actually feeling nervous. There was still a scent of anxiety coming from Stiles, but at least he no longer seemed quite as jittery.

"Good, good," said Peter agreeably. "Unfortunately, duty called and Maks has been unavoidably detained, but he will join us as soon as he can. He may not be here for the drawing of the contract, but he will definitely be here in time for the ceremony itself."

Derek nodded. In claims where one or both parties were under 18, a parent or guardian had to be present for that person. Maks had already given his verbal consent to the Alpha, so technically Peter could stand in as Stiles' guardian. It would be better, though, if Maks were there, since it would put Stiles at ease and because Peter was actually there in his capacity as Alpha and not as Derek's uncle.

When a pair presented to the magistrate to enter a claim, be it provisional or permanent, there was a certain protocol to be followed to insure everything was in place for a successful joining, even for arranged claims such as theirs. If it was a human pairing, the magistrate was mediator between them to insure there was no coercion involved and that both parties were honest about their needs. If it was a werewolf pairing, Peter took on the part of mediator instead, since no wolf would dare cross him by lying. Pairings between werewolves and humans were different, though. Both the Alpha and the magistrate had to be present to make sure both the human and wolf interests were represented and to attest that no one was being unduly influenced.

They would be drawing up their contract soon, a daunting task if Derek had ever faced one. Sub clubs held the contracts for the submissives working there and all he had ever had to do was fill out a questionnaire to be paired with a compatible submissive and then sign the agreement to adhere to house policy. Suddenly he felt the heavy weight of responsibility on his shoulders because this was so much more than a one-time scene. There was more at stake here than there had ever been before.

The door leading to the back of the office suddenly opened, shaking Derek from his thoughts and making him jump. He shot Peter a dirty look when he heard him laugh softly. The woman from the desk stood in the door and gestured to them. "Come this way, please, gentlemen. I am going to show you to one of our work rooms, and Magistrate Deaton will join you there shortly."

* * *

Stiles quietly followed behind Derek and Peter. He wasn't afraid, but he was sure both werewolves could hear his heart pounding and he probably reeked of nervousness. As though sensing his need, Derek reached back and took his hand, making Stiles instantly feel calmer.

It was nice that they seemed so well suited thus far. Stiles didn't usually take to dominants very easily. He knew he was what some would refer to as willful, but he preferred to think it was more that he knew himself and his needs pretty well. It was true that he didn't exactly know _Derek_ very well yet, but they were definitely getting along. When they were talking on the way over, Stiles was sure he had rambled a bit, as he was wont to do when he was nervous or excited. Yet Derek hadn't made him feel dumb or as if he was bothering him. He had actually seemed interested in what he was saying, and underneath his quiet and broody exterior, it seemed Derek Hale was hiding a rather wicked sense of humor. Stiles couldn't deny they seemed very compatible in the bedroom as well. If last night was just a tantalizing peek of what their claim would be like, then he could hardly wait to see what happened next. He suppressed a shiver, then blushed hotly when Derek's hand tightened on his own and he heard Peter give a low chuckle. Right. Werewolf senses. Probably best not to be thinking about the sexytimes right now. He made himself think instead of lacrosse practice earlier this week when Dom Finstock made everyone run laps because Greenberg went the wrong way and scored on his own goalie.

They were led into a large room that was painted a calming pale color and was light and airy. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, giving it a pleasant glow. A large round table was to one side, surrounded by several chairs, while to the other side there was a small couch with matching easy chairs. Peter headed straight to the coffee maker set up in one corner and began fixing himself a cup. "You two sit down at the table," he tossed over his shoulder as he stirred. "Go ahead and get started outlining your contract. I'll be just a minute here, and then I believe I'll take one of those comfy chairs over this way and catch up on emails. You won't even know I'm here."

Stiles waited for Derek to sit, then settled in the chair next to him. At least these chairs were a little more comfortable than the ones out in the reception area. He twiddled his thumbs nervously as Derek took paper and a pen from the neat stacks in the center of the table.

Derek opened his mouth to begin talking, then seemed to hesitate before taking a deep breath and trying again. "Okay, so I'm going to be really open right now because that's what we both need. I want us to be able to explore things together, but I want it to be things we both want. I've never had a regular sub before and you haven't had a Dom at all. I want us to get to know each other. So let's start by establishing our safewords," Derek said. "I want you to always be comfortable with me and what we're doing, but if there is ever a time where you aren't comfortable or feel unsure, I want you to tell me immediately. I will never punish you for using your safewords, okay? These are for your protection and I don't want you to think there will be any negative ramifications or retaliation of any sort. I know this requires a lot of trust." He hesitated again. "Do you think you can trust me?"

Stiles nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said immediately, knowing Derek would be able to hear that he was being truthful. He _did_ trust Derek; he somehow knew that he could. The importance of safewords had been stressed heavily in freshman sub studies, and he was glad it was important enough to Derek that he brought that up first.

"Good boy," praised Derek, taking a moment to lightly run his fingers through Stiles' hair. "Thank you for trusting me."

Stiles happily leaned into his Dom's touch, pouting just a bit when Derek removed his hand. "What should we use? Moon phases or something like that?" he asked.

Derek tapped his pen on the table thoughtfully. "We don't want to get too cutesy. I don't want there to be any chance of some sort of misunderstanding or not recognizing your safeword. I think, at least to start, we should stick to the color system. It's easy to remember and is pretty universally recognized. You're familiar with it, right? Green means everything is alright, yellow means you are close to your limits or need a break, and red means we stop everything immediately. We don't have to be in a scene for you to use these, either. For example, if we are out in public and something has you uncomfortable, you can give me your color so I can do what it takes to make it better."

"Okay," agreed Stiles. "That seems to work pretty well, but what if I can't talk?"

"Somehow I get the idea that talking comes pretty easily to you," Derek said, delighting inwardly at the pretty flush that stained his submissive's cheeks and ran down his neck.

Stiles laughed nervously. "No, I meant like, what if I'm gagged and I can't say my colors?" He was staring at the tabletop and missed how Derek's pupils dilated slightly.

"We'll discuss hard and soft limits soon," Derek said after clearing his throat. He wrote _Safewords_ down on the paper and recorded the color system as their choice. "But since you brought this up, in any scene where you might be gagged, you still have a way to communicate with me. A bell works well; you can ring it if you need to stop and I'll be able to hear it. So I guess we can move on now to things we do and don't want. I take it you would be okay with being gagged, then?"

Stiles blushed harder, unaware just how tempting he was to Derek without even trying. "I think so? I don't actually know, since I haven't actually done anything before. I don't really know what I will like, I just have an idea of things I think I want to try. Maybe it would be easier if I told you things I know I don't want."

Derek nodded. "That makes sense. We can always go back as well and revise things if we decide to change them down the line, so if anything were to come up that you didn't like we can add that if need be." He wrote _Hard Limits_ on the paper next and looked seriously at Stiles. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what you have in mind."

Stiles sat quietly for a moment. "Okay. I don't want you to hurt me badly, especially for punishment. Like, you're a werewolf, you've got claws, teeth and crazy strength and healing abilities, while I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones. It's one thing if you nip me or scratch me a little while we're playing, but if I need punishment I don't want you to use _rahr_ claws on me to make me bleed or break any bones or anything. No needles or knives or creepy things like that."

Derek made record of it on his paper. "I appreciate you being honest with me. I wouldn't want to hurt you like that anyway, but I'm glad we're putting it in writing so there's no question. What else?"

Stiles thought for a moment. "I don't want any watersports or scat play or anything like that."

"Agreed," said Derek, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he wrote it down. "I was never into any of that."

"I don't want to be humiliated, either," said Stiles tentatively. "Especially in public. I don't mind dirty talk, don't get me wrong. The idea of you telling me in our room that I was born to suck your cock is one thing, that's actually pretty hot, but I don't think I want to be called a cockslut or a dirty whore or anything like that. I also don't want to have to kiss your shoes or anything that would feel degrading to me."

"Okay," said Derek as he added humiliation to the hard limits list. "That won't be a problem either. I don't intend to make you do something like crawl after me, and remember, you always have the option of safewording, even if we aren't scening. What else?"

"No breathplay," Stiles said after a moment's thought. "Not being able to breathe freaks me out and I don't know if I could manage to think straight enough to safeword out of that."

"Got it," said Derek, underlining it after he wrote it down. "Anything else?"

Stiles drummed his fingers on the tabletop while he tried to think if there was any other limits he had. "Not that I can think of at the moment. I promise I'll be sure to let you know immediately if that changes. But what about you, Sir? Do you have any limits?"

Derek looked taken aback, as though he hadn't considered it or hadn't been expecting Stiles to ask. He twirled the pen in his fingers while he thought and finally said, "I agree with pretty much everything you've laid out so far. I also don't want to share you with anyone. I know there are some Doms that share their subs or have their subs play with and service others, but I don't want that. Even the thought of you smelling like someone else because of that sets me on edge."

Stiles felt his eyes widen. He hadn't even thought of that. "No, I agree 100%, no sharing of the Stiles with other Doms or subs." He paused and then asked tentatively, "Does that go both ways? Like I won't have to share you either?"

"You will have my full commitment while we're claimed," Derek promised. "That means no Sub Clubs and no playing with other submissives. Now, have you thought of any things you might want to try?"

"I liked the blindfold today and I think that would be fun to explore further," Stiles said thoughtfully. "I think I'd like to try some light bondage, too. Maybe not hardcore, but we can talk about it when the times comes. Spanking has potential, too, although I think a lot of couples use it for punishment, but maybe we can try it for fun as well. I also really liked how you came on me last night. That was _way_ hotter than I thought it would be. So maybe we can do that sometimes, too." He paused for a moment, positive he'd seen Derek's eyes flash bright blue for a moment before returning to their normal green. "Maybe we could experiment with temperature play one day. Ice cubes and hot wax."

"Hot wax? You mean like candles?" Derek asked, his voice coming out slightly strained.

Stiles winced when he remembered that most of Derek's family had died in a fire. "Okay, never mind on that one, you can put that under hard limits if you want." He felt Derek's hand cover his thigh and squeeze reassuringly.

"I'm capable of being around controlled fire, Stiles. You haven't offended me. It was more the mental image of your beautiful skin covered in all that colorful wax that got to me," Derek whispered softly. He began rubbing his thumb gently along the inseam of Stiles' jeans, which, along with his Dom's words, was about to drive him crazy

Stiles wiggled in his chair as he tried to keep from popping a boner right there, because seriously? In the magistrate's office with his Headmaster in the same room? Derek leaned towards him and sniffed, his eyes flashing blue once again, and Stiles swore he saw fangs, too. Submission flowed through him in a warm wave and he wanted more than anything to just drop to his knees right there and let his Dom do as he pleased.

"Now, now, boys, let's put it away. Do try to remember where we are and not embarrass ourselves, shall we?" called Peter from across the room.

Derek leaned back and closed his eyes, appearing to be composing himself. Stiles did the same, reminding himself that they just had to get through the next hour or so and then they would be home and in their room, ready to begin their claim in earnest.

 _Home_. How strange to already think of somewhere other than his father's house as home. Stiles wondered if all submissives adapted to their Doms this easily or if he was just weird. Or lucky.

They continued talk about and agree upon their terms, Derek taking careful notes of everything. The door opened and a dark skinned man placidly walked in with a laptop tucked under one arm. He smiled benignly at them all. "Good evening. I am Magistrate Deaton." He looked over to where Peter was sitting and said, "It's a pleasure to see you, Alpha."

"Indeed," smirked Peter. "This is my nephew, Dom Derek Hale, and his chosen submissive, Aurélien Stilinski, known as Stiles. They are here to enter into a provisional claim, first time for both."

Stiles had to hand it to the magistrate; he was one cool customer. If Deaton was surprised at this being Derek's first claim, he didn't show it. He nodded once and walked to the table to sit down across from them, motioning for Peter to join them as well. He set up his laptop and smiled tranquilly at Stiles and Derek.

"I see you have already established some foundation for your contract," Deaton said, sounding pleased as he glanced at the notes Derek had made. "That's very good. Communication is one of the most basic and necessary elements of a successful claim. Without it, things can go terribly wrong. People can get hurt, whether it be physically or emotionally, and we don't want that. Honesty is another important fundamental. You each must be honest with yourself first and foremost so that you can in turn be honest with each other. Without both of these, you cannot establish trust between you, and without trust a claim cannot exist."

Stiles wasn't sure if he was supposed to speak yet or not. He saw that Derek was nodding in agreement, so he did as well. Everything the magistrate was saying made perfect sense to him.

"If I may?" Deaton asked, holding his hand out to Derek. In turn, Derek handed him the notes he had made while they were discussing contract terms. Deaton looked them over imperturbably and opened a document form on his laptop. They sat quietly, the only noise being the rapid keystrokes as the magistrate wrote up their contract. The soft sound of the door opening caught Stiles' attention, and he smiled in relief as his dad slipped quietly into the room and joined them at the table.

"I'm glad you made it, Sheriff," said Deaton as he continued typing. "Now, before we begin the claiming ceremony, I need to be sure there is no coercion of any kind. I understand this is an arranged claim; Stiles is entering in this claim of his own free will and is not being induced into accepting this claim against his better judgement, is that correct?"

Stiles watched as Maks nodded his head. "Yes, Magistrate. I let my son know of the offer being made and assured him that he could refuse the claim with no fear of retaliation by or on behalf of the Alpha and his family. He accepted this claim on his own with no means of persuasion from me."

"That's good to know," replied Deaton, his voice level and calm. "Stiles, before we proceed, I need to get a statement from you. If I could have you follow me?"

Stiles glanced at Derek and then his father, feeling anxious and uncertain. Derek leaned into him and pressed their foreheads together. "You're my good boy," he said softly. "Go with the magistrate and do as he tells you." Stiles nodded and stood to follow Deaton out of the room.

Deaton lead him to an office just a few doors down. He walked in and sat behind the desk, gesturing for Stiles to sit in one of the chairs across from him.

"With your permission, this conversation will be recorded and will go on record as part of your claim process," Deaton said as he set up a small recorder. When Stiles nodded, he pressed the record button. "This is Magistrate Alan Deaton of Beacon Hills precinct, Beacon Hills, California. I am with submissive elect Aurélien Stilinski, henceforth to be addressed as Stiles, and have his permission to record this conversation. Stiles presents with prospective Dominant Derek Hale and is applying for a provisional claim. This claim will be a first claim for them both. Do you feel nervous, Stiles? A first claim is a serious deal," remarked Deaton, betraying no emotion as he focused on the young submissive.

"I am, just a little," confessed Stiles. He knew this was part of the protocol for a claim, but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking.

"First time jitters are normal and to be expected," Deaton replied sagely. "I just need to verify that this is what you want. You aren't being pressured into this claim by any member of the Hale family or your father?"

Stiles shook his head vehemently. "No! Not at all. I want this. I _like_ Derek and I think he'll be an awesome Dom. He's been really great so far and we seem like we're going to be pretty compatible. I think we'll do great together."

Deaton smiled tranquilly. "I'm glad to know that. Let it be known this day that Aurélien 'Stiles' Stilinski has verified that he is entering into this claim of his own free will and has not been unduly pressured or influenced in any way. This claim can now proceed." He clicked the record button and hooked the recorder to a small cable that was connected to a desktop computer. "Thank you, Stiles. I'll download that audible file and it will go on record as part of your claim process today. We can return to the other room now."

When they returned, Derek had stood up and was leaning back with his arms crossed so that he was nearly sitting on the table instead. He looked almost apprehensive, as though he was expecting something to go wrong. Stiles quickly crossed the room to return to his side, feeling the need to be close to his Dom again. The feeling was apparently mutual as Derek immediately ran his hands gently over Stiles' cheeks and neck, taking a moment to scent him before returning them both to their chairs, keeping a hand on Stiles to calm them both.

Deaton returned to his seat and checked something on his laptop before he turned his even gaze to Peter. "Dom Peter Hale, as Alpha of this pack and on behalf of your nephew, do you verify that he enters this claim under no duress and of his own free will?"

Peter nodded solemnly. "My nephew enters into this claim willingly, Magistrate. You have the word of the Alpha."

Stiles released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as Deaton continued to type on his computer. Derek had a firm grip on his thigh still, which kept him him from freaking out, and he suspicioned the same was true for Derek as well. He hadn't missed earlier the tightening of his Dom's hand on his leg when the magistrate had mentioned him possibly refusing the claim. He had placed his own hand on Derek's and had been happy to feel him relax immediately. Deaton began speaking, drawing his attention from his inner musings, and he paid close attention to what was being said.

"I have everything ready, I believe, and am ready to begin the ceremony," Deaton said, looking at Stiles and Derek solemnly. "Understand that this is a provisional claim, entered in as such until one or both parties decide to end it. If both parties are not in agreement for its end, counseling can be provided, but there is no obligation to accept it or to stay in the claim if it is not desired. It is expected of both parties that this provisional contract will be honored and adhered to. Failure on the part of either party to maintain their part of the agreement is grounds for dissolution of the claim. If during the course of this provisional claim there is an agreement to make it a permanent claim, arrangements will be made for a collaring ceremony, which is legal and binding. Do you understand this so far?"

"Yes," answered Derek, meeting Deaton's eyes while Stiles turned his gaze to the table and said, "Yes Sir."

"Excellent," stated Deaton. "Do you have cuffs to exchange?" When Derek and Stiles both nodded, he closed his laptop and stood up. "Then if you will follow me this way we can get started."

Stiles looked questioningly at Derek, who looked just as confused as he felt. Peter silently handed the bag to Derek and motioned them both forward to follow Deaton. He stopped briefly at a printer in the hallway to gather a small stack of papers and then continued on. They all followed him towards the back to a small room that looked like some sort of courtroom. There was a podium at the front, and Deaton stood behind it, shuffling the papers he held.

"Alpha Hale, Sheriff Stilinski, thank you for your assistance. The terms of this claim and contract are confidential, so I am going to ask that you both wait for us in the main lobby. We will join there when the ceremony is complete. Will the Dominant and submissive elect come stand before me?" he intoned quietly.

Stiles swallowed nervously, casting his dad one final panicked look. The sheriff nodded and smiled encouragingly at him one final time as he and Peter left them with Deaton. Stiles felt himself relax some when Derek took him by the hand and led him to stand in front of the podium. He was grateful that his Dom kept a calming hand on the small of his back while they listened to Deaton recite the terms of the contract and ceremonial out loud.

_"First, let it be known that both Dominant Derek Hale and submissive Aurélien Stilinski, known and henceforth referred to as 'Stiles,' come into this claim of their own free will and consent. This contract, set and agreed upon this day, is amendable at any time with the mutual consent of both parties."_

_"Derek and Stiles have agreed on the following terms: this is a relationship founded on mutual respect and trust. They each have the right to seek and experience physical and emotional satisfaction from each other and within this claim. Derek and Stiles have also agreed on a relationship sexual in nature. This is defined as consent to engage in oral and anal sex, including fellatio and anilingus; masturbation, be it mutual or for the pleasure of the partner; prostate massage and anal play; and light bondage with straps, ties, handcuffs or other restriction and also including gags and blindfolds. Stiles has consented to relinquish ownership of his sexual pleasure to Derek and understands that orgasm attainment is now at the discretion and behest of his Dominant."_

_"As Dominant, Derek accepts the responsibility of Stiles' body and entirety, to do with as he sees fit, under the provisions of this contract. He agrees to care for Stiles, to arrange for his safety and well-being as long as he is under the terms of this contract. He also accepts the commitment to treat the Stiles properly, to train him, punish him, care for him, and use Stiles as he sees fit."_

_"Derek has the right to ask any questions of Stiles regarding any concerns he may have and has the right to expect Stiles to answer truthfully and completely, to the best of his knowledge. If he suspects that Stiles is not disclosing the truth, he may interrogate further to acquire the best answer from Stiles within the limitations of this contract."_

_"As submissive, Stiles understands he will keep his body available to Derek at all times within the parameters of this contract. Stiles also acknowledges that Derek may use his body or mind in any manner he wishes within reasonable parameters of safety and any limitations set forth in this contract. Stiles will not touch or pleasure himself sexually unless given permission to do so by Derek. The surrender as a submissive is done with the knowledge that nothing asked of Stiles that will demean him as a person or cause harm to him as a human joining in a claim with a werewolf."_

_"Stiles understands that Derek expects him to be forthcoming and honest in regards to any of his needs, whether they be physical or emotional. Safewords have been discussed and agreed upon, and it is understood that Stiles has the right to utilize them at any time if he finds it necessary to his well being to do so. He is able to do so knowing that Derek will respect his need and that there is no fear of punishment or retaliation."_

_"Both parties understand and agree that any failure by Stiles to comply fully with Derek's desires shall be regarded as sufficient cause for any punishment deemed appropriate, within the limitations of this contract."_

_"Both parties must be aware of the rules and know that Derek has full discretion to decide on the appropriate punishment for rule breaking on a case by case basis. Derek will always provide reason for a punishment. Punishment will be treated seriously. Derek will comfort Stiles after he has been reprimanded. Punishments besides spankings are at the discretion of Derek and always must be complied with. These include orders to stand or kneel in a corner, lectures, or whatever else Derek determines as useful and necessary to teach Stiles."_

_"It is assumed that submissives wish to be in service and wish to perform to the best of their ability. Submission is not intended as a game wherein the submissive intentionally makes errors to provoke their Dom. Therefore, if Stiles fails at a task, it is initially assumed that the failure is due to a lack of understanding or instruction, and Derek will instruct him again. Punishments will not be designed to be confused with play; they will be designed to be unpleasant. Punishment of Stiles is subject to certain rules designed to protect him from intentional abuse or permanent bodily harm. Punishment must not incur any form of abuse, including but not limited to: death; injury designed to cause permanent bodily harm, broken bones, or loss of mobility or function; loss of consciousness; body modification or mutilation; and withholding any basic necessity, such as food, water, or personal hygiene for extended periods of time."_

_"Hard limits are defined here as an act or issue that is strictly prohibited by term of this contract. They are agreed upon as the following: no acts involving needles, knives, cutting, piercing, or blood, no acts involving deliberate humiliation, be it public or private, no acts involving urination or defecation and the products thereof, and no acts involving breath control. There is also to be no activity that involves the direct contact of electric current, whether alternating or direct, fire, or flames to the body. Both parties have expressed that they wish to be monogamous and do not wish for there to be any third party involvement, including sharing with another dominant or bringing another submissive into a scene. Failure to respect these limits will result in formal investigation and punishment up to and including termination of the claim."_

_"Soft limits can be discussed, negotiated and agreed upon between both parties, as long as Stiles and Derek both give their consent. This includes the following: use of vibrators, butt plugs and other implements; heavier bondage than that agreed to in terms, such as use of shibari technique or a spreader implement; restraint including ankles and/or hands being bound, either in front or back of the body, and binding to fixed items, such as a head board or wall mount; and light painplay, including spanking, nipple clamps, and temperature play, such as ice cubes or hot wax."_

Deaton looked up from his papers and smiled at them. "Does this sound correct so far?" When both Derek and Stiles gave their assent, he nodded. "That's fine, then. Derek, I'm going to have you present Stiles with his cuff first. I understand you have your own statement of commitment?"

Derek nodded and leaned down to get Stiles' cuff out of the bag. Stiles immediately missed the warmth of his Dom's hand on his back when Derek turned him so they stood facing each other. He let Derek take his left hand, shivering as his Dom gently traced his thumb over the black bird tattoo before wrapping the cuff around his wrist and fastening it into place.

"Stiles," Derek said, his tone serious and formal, "I promise I am going to do all I can to be the best Dom for you. Your safety and well being are my top priority. I promise to listen to you and to take any concerns you have seriously. I promise to respect your limits and needs, and I am willing to discuss anything with you, whether you want to try something new or have a new limit you want addressed. I promise I will always take care of you, in and out of play. I will be honest and communicative with you and I'll trust you to do the same. This cuff signifies my commitment to you and my ownership of you so long as we are in this claim."

Stiles swallowed heavily and took the other cuff out of the bag. He raised Derek's hand to buckle the cuff in place and took a deep breath. "Sir. _Derek_. I promise to try to be the best submissive you've ever had. I trust you to honor my requests and that you will take control when I need you to. I will be honest with you and trust that you will be honest with me. If I do anything wrong, I trust that you will tell me and correct me as merited. I trust you to take care of me, before, during, and after any scene, as well as in our day-to-day routines. I accept your cuff and present you with my own to show that while you own me, I own you as well, so long as we are in this claim." He brushed his lips lightly over the red phoenix tattoo. "I promise to be your good boy," he whispered softly, not missing Derek's swift intake of breath or the quick tightening of his fingers around Stiles' own. His eyes changed from pale green to electric blue, and instead of a quick flash, this time they stayed that way.

"I think everything is in place to make this a legal claim," said Deaton in satisfaction. "All I need are your signatures on the designated lines. We will notarize it, and you boys will be good to go." He stepped from behind the podium and walked towards a small desk. Stiles and Derek were too caught up in each other to pay him any mind, and he cleared his throat gently to get their attention.

Stiles let Derek lead him to the desk, thrilled that his Dom didn't seem to want to let go of him even for a moment. They signed their names on the documents and waited impatiently for the notary stamp to be applied. When the papers were dry and neatly folded into an envelope, Derek tucked their copies on his pocket and thanked Deaton with a quickness that bordered on being uncivil before turning and swiftly heading for the exit. Stiles nearly had to run to keep up with his long legged stride.

When they got to the lobby, Peter and Maks were waiting for them. Peter chuckled and gave Derek a wickedly amused smirk while Stiles rushed to give his father a quick hug before they left, deeply aware that his Dom was teetering on the edge of control and needed them to get home quickly.

"Congratulations, son. I hope you will be happy. You know where I am if you need me," said Maks softly and directly in Stiles' ear. "I also promise not to shoot your Dom for all those hickeys on your neck," he teased.

"Okay, Dad, I thought polite society dictated that it's rude to point out things like that," joked Stiles in return as he took Derek's hand again. "I'll call you sometime soon, okay?"

He didn't hear his father's answer as his Dom nearly dragged him out to his car. When they got to the Camaro Derek didn't even bother unlocking it before he had Stiles pressed up against it, kissing him hungrily and licking into his mouth, running his hands everywhere he could reach. He could feel Derek hard against him, and he didn't have to possess werewolf senses to know arousal was pouring off of Derek in waves.

Stiles felt his knees nearly buckle when Derek licked his favorite sensitive spot just under Stiles' ear and began sucking another bruise onto the skin there. As much dominance was surging through Derek, it had its submission equal coursing just as hotly through Stiles.

"You make me wild," Derek admitted, his voice harsh with the obvious effort to control himself. "I want you to sit in the back seat on the way home. If you are where I can easily reach you, we won't make it to the house. I don't want our first scene to be on the side of the road after I've crashed the car."

Stiles hastened to obey, climbing in the back seat as soon as the doors were unlocked and squeaking in surprise when he felt a firm smack to his ass. He buckled his seatbelt and tried to look demure as Derek climbed into the front seat.

"God, _look_ at you," groaned Derek from the front seat as he cranked the car and threw it into reverse. "You're going to kill me."

They didn't say anything else to each other as Derek concentrated on getting them home in one piece. He drove far faster than was allowed by the law, and Stiles felt sure that if an officer had pulled them over, Derek would have fully shifted into his beta form. Luckily they made it home without incident, and Stiles couldn't help but laugh when Derek nearly forgot to put the car in park. He wasn't laughing, though, when Derek threw his keys at the house sub waiting to park the car for him and all but carried Stiles into the house.

They ran hand in hand up the stairs, taking them two at a time and not caring a bit that everyone in the house was aware of what they were doing. When they reached Derek's room, Stiles gasped as he was shoved against the closed door and his Dom immediately pressed into his personal space. Derek's eyes were still bright blue and he was broadcasting dominance that Stiles was willing to bet even the house submissives could feel. He was in the throes of his own submission, and even the sensation of clothing against his skin was quickly becoming annoying.

"I'm going to go downstairs and get a glass of ice water to get myself under control," whispered Derek, words coming out thickly through his elongated fangs and sending a frisson of excitement and fear down Stiles' spine. "When I get back, I expect you to be kneeling in the middle of the bed, naked except for my cuff on your wrist. Clothes in the hamper and not thrown on the floor. Do you understand, pretty boy?"

Stiles shivered in anticipation as another hot wave of submission coursed through his blood. "Yes Sir," he whispered.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***tap, tap***
> 
>  
> 
>   **Is this thing on?**
> 
>   **So, hi. This is where I once again apologize for the length of time between updates. This chapter was especially tough, because I had so much going on. First, RL was incredibly hectic at the end of the year, and honestly, when I had time to write, I was usually too exhausted to do so. Then just before Christmas, I managed to fracture a finger at work, which put a serious damper on my typing skills. Then I found out the hard way that my Pages app on iPad and iPhone no longer communicate with each other. My iPad is a gen1 and the OS is no longer being updated, so with the latest update I can no longer go into a doc on either device and have it save. So imagine my utter horror when the nearly completed chapter got deleted and didn't back up to the cloud. I shed actual tears over that, not even gonna lie. I think I was able to reproduce the chapter (hopefully) admirably. I sincerely hope everyone enjoys this chapter and I will truly try not to take months on the next update.**
> 
>   **Many thanks to all of you who took time to visit my ask on Tumblr. I got so many messages of support and encouragement. Feel free to visit anytime! All my love to my wifey[Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com), who did the initial read through and made some excellent suggestions to make this chapter better, and to my beta [Sies](http://kurtsweenie.tumblr.com), who made a suggestion about a part of this fic that I think made it better and hotter. Loves also to [Sam](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com), who got this fic going in the first place, and to [Riah](http://lurkdusoleil.tumblr.com), who isn't in this fandom, yet still let me freak out in her ask and took time to help me out with a part I was struggling with.**
> 
> **Gorgeous graphic by[Beth](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com)**
> 
> * * *

  


* * *

_Do you understand, pretty boy?_

Stiles kicked his shoes off into the corner and lined them up neatly against the wall. He pulled off his socks and tossed them into the laundry hamper, quickly followed by his flannel, and then tugged his shirt over his head, managing to only get caught in it once in his haste. Opening his jeans gave some much needed relief on his hardening cock, but he managed to get one foot caught in the leg. He was sure he looked ridiculous, hopping on one foot and struggling to free the other, all while sporting a hard-on. Awesome. Thank god Derek couldn't see him right now, he would probably think he had claimed a defective submissive and be questioning his life choices all over again.

Stripped down to his briefs, Stiles took a shaky breath. This was it, _finally_. He wasn't sure he'd ever anticipated something so much while at the same time being one step away from sheer terror. Three days ago he hadn't even known of Derek Hale's _existence_ , much less that he would be wearing his cuff. Yet here he was, preparing to be dominated by one of the hottest guys he'd ever seen, and something about it felt so _right_ he wasn't sure he could explain it.

What even was his life, seriously.

He wasn't sure when Derek would be back, so Stiles knew he needed to get to it. He had been given instructions by his Dom, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him by not doing as he'd said to. Taking a deep breath, he shimmied out of his briefs and tossed them in the hamper with the rest of his clothes. Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing and the warm sensation gathered in his chest that seemed almost soothing. When he opened his eyes, he felt calm and clear headed. His reflection in the mirror above the dresser was wide-eyed, but not with fear. Rather, his eyes shone with something akin to _exhilaration_. His skin tingled with eagerness and Stiles was hyper aware of the warm, supple leather wrapped around his wrist.

He took a moment to stroke the cuff, thrilling at the softness of it and how it already fit him as comfortably as if he had been wearing it for months instead of hours. Stiles had known as soon as he'd seen this particular cuff that it was _meant_ to be his. He had looked at so many that he had been worried that Derek was starting to lose his patience. Somehow he had _known_ his cuff was there, he just had to find it. When he had seen this one, it was as if something had aligned inside him. He had known beyond the shadow of a doubt this cuff was _meant_ to belong to him.

When it seemed like Derek hadn't liked the cuff, Stiles had to swallow down his disappointment. No other cuff would have felt right after holding that one, but he would have done what his Dom wanted. He had felt embarrassed and a little unsure; maybe he was wrong about the cuff and maybe Derek didn't want him wearing something so obvious. But then he had listened to Stiles' explanation of why he liked it and had gotten it for him with no further questions.

Nothing he had ever studied in school had prepared him for Derek Hale. It had, however, prepared him to be a good submissive, and Stiles knew he was one of the best. It was time to show his Dom just how obedient he could be. He went to the bed and pulled the blankets and sheets back so they wouldn't be in the way, and clambered onto the bed. Once he was in the center, he knelt up on his knees in the traditional submissive pose, knees slightly apart for comfort and balance, hands resting on his thighs in anticipation of his Dom's instructions, head down in obeisance. He trembled slightly, though he wasn't sure if it was more excitement or nerves—both seemed a reasonable response. Stiles mentally high fived himself on carrying out orders and wondered how long Derek would have him wait. As if in answer, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and his heart leapt in anticipation.

* * *

Derek purposefully took the stairs one at a time, keeping a loose grip on the handrail as he made his way to the kitchen and concentrating on bringing his breathing and heart beat back to normal. His gums and fingertips tingled as his fangs and claws receded and his vision swam for a breadth of a second before returning to normal human vision. Control was of the essence here. Stiles was depending on him to do things right and to take care of him, and Derek fully intended to do just that.

When Derek walked into the kitchen, Libby looked up at him and smiled encouragingly. She was obviously prepared to leave for the day and Derek suddenly realized how unusually quiet the house was. At his questioning look, Libby gestured to the island where an envelope with his name written on it in Laura's familiar flowing scrawl was propped up against the fruit bowl.

"Mistress Laura left you a note explaining everything. The Alpha has given the house submissives the night off early, as well as the weekend, and with pay at that. Very generous of him," she said quietly. "I'm the last one and I just wanted to be sure everything was in place before I left. Do you require anything, Mister Derek?"

Derek shook his head at her distractedly. "No, thanks, Lib. Enjoy your weekend," he said, paying her no further attention as she slipped out of the room, closing the front door quietly behind her as she left. He tore open the envelope and read the note inside:

_Derek,_

_Congratulations on your new submissive! It's about time! As a gift to you, I sweet-talked Peter into us making ourselves scarce for the next few days and giving you some well-deserved privacy. (I even let him think it was his idea. You're welcome.) We have opted to take our submissives to the spa for a weekend of pampering, and maybe a little punishing, too. ;) The staff has the weekend off, so you and your adorable boy will have the house all to yourself. Libby is 'on call' if you need anything, although I rather doubt you will. The keys for the playroom are in their normal place if you manage to venture outside of your bedroom. The hot tub is cleaned, ready, and available, as is the pool.  
_

_I packed a small cooler and put it under your side of the bed, all full with aftercare essentials so you don't have to get out of bed after your scenes and can concentrate on your submissive. Peter went ahead and had a mini fridge installed in the corner of your room next to your desk. You may not think much of that now, but believe me, you'll thank him later. I made sure it was stocked with plenty of juice and water. There's also meat and cheese cuts, fruit slices, and some whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Use those as you see fit. The basket on top has protein and granola bars, peanut butter crackers, and a variety of chocolates. There is a small electric kettle to heat water and a multipack of teas if you prefer that to water or juice. Sugar and honey are next to the kettle._

_The box in the bottom drawer of your nightstand has wet wipes, aloe vera lotion, hydrogel, lidocaine wipes, and basic first aid supplies should you require them. There are also a few different lubricants in the top drawer to experiment with, if you like. Clean linens are in the closet upstairs, just in case you've forgotten._

_We will be back sometime Sunday evening. I'll send you a text to give you specifics so you know when to expect us. Enjoy your weekend and congratulations again on your claim. Just so you know, I am so incredibly happy for you, and I believe mom and dad would have loved him, too.  
_

_Have fun!_

_Love always,_

_Lola_

_P.S. Stay out of my room. I'll know if you fuck in my bed._

Derek rolled his eyes, feeling a rush of exasperation and genuine affection for his sister as he refolded the note and put it back in the envelope. Thanks to her and his uncle, he had pretty much everything he needed to scene with Stiles and give him proper aftercare, which was good because he hadn't even _thought_ about it between resisting a claim in the first place and then having one happen as quickly as it had. He felt overwhelmed for a brief moment with the reality of what was happening. How could he have forgotten something so basic yet important as an aftercare kit? What if he did something wrong? What if Stiles decided he'd made a mistake? Derek grabbed the countertop with both hands and squeezed it as he fought down the panic clawing at his insides. _He could do this._ He was an experienced Dom that was skilled and capable, damn it, and he would _not_ have a nervous breakdown over the fact that _his_ (young and completely inexperienced, _Jesus Christ_ ) submissive wearing _his_ cuff was currently upstairs in _his_ room awaiting his arrival.

Opening the cabinet where the glasses were, Derek took one down and walked over to the refrigerator. He stuck the cup under the ice maker to fill it, then took the Brita pitcher out and poured it full of cold water with hands that trembled ever so slightly, although he mentally denied that. Breathing deeply in order to calm himself, he sipped it slowly and deliberately. A quick glance at the clock had him placing the glass in the sink. He washed his hands and headed upstairs for his room. It wouldn't do to leave Stiles alone and waiting for him for too long. When he reached his door, Derek took one final deep breath to steady himself and turned the doorknob.

The sight that met his eyes nearly took his breath away. As he had been told, Stiles knelt in the center of the bed, head down, hands resting on his slightly spread thighs. He wore nothing but his new cuff, the symbol of Derek's ownership stark against the pale skin it encompassed. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were flushed, his already semi-erect cock resting between his thighs.

He was beautiful.

As directed, Stiles had put his clothes in the hamper and Derek was pleased to see he had even pulled the blankets back on the bed in preparation and invitation. There was something so inherently pleasurable about an eager submissive that awaited their Dom's attentions. The room was filled with the utterly mouthwatering scents of excitement and arousal, along with a slight undercurrent of anxiety and something _more_ that Derek couldn't quite identify, all rolling off his boy in waves. _His submissive._ His wolf, never far from the surface, lowly rumbled its approval. It made him want to toss his head back and howl his satisfaction to the world.

Dominance coursed through him, hot and thick in his blood. Derek closed his door softly behind him, noting with approval that even though he trembled slightly, Stiles didn't move from his position on the bed. He toed his shoes and socks off and kicked them to the side out of the way.

"Just look at you," he crooned softly as he walked slowly towards the bed, keeping his tone low and soothing. "Such a pretty boy and so good for me." Derek began removing his shirt with slow deliberation, noting how Stiles watched him under lowered lashes. He could hear his boy's breath hitch softly and the erratic pounding of his heartbeat. His hard cock throbbed as it pressed against the confines of his jeans, and he didn't miss Stiles' quick glance there, or the nervous yet tantalizing way he licked his lips in response. A practiced toss sent his shirt flying to the hamper, and Derek knelt on the edge of the bed with one knee.

"Are you alright? You aren't cold? It's okay to answer me," Derek said as he reached out to gently trace his fingers over Stiles' cheeks and down his neck. He felt the movement of throat muscles working as Stiles swallowed heavily before answering.

"I'm not cold," answered Stiles, his voice sounding slightly breathless, making Derek's cock throb.

"Good. Before we start playing, do you remember your safewords?" Derek asked, continuing to lightly stroke Stiles' throat. He smiled when Stiles nodded. "Excellent. And what are they?"

Stiles licked his lips and answered, "Green if everything is okay, yellow if I need a break or am close to a limit, red if I need to stop."

"That's my good boy," Derek said approvingly. He laid Stiles back and arranged him against the pillows, then raised his arms to place his hands on the bars of the headboard. Kneeling beside his submissive, he said, "I am going to touch you now and get myself more familiar with your body. For now I want you just like this. Keep still with your hands holding on the headboard. Don't let go. If you let go, I stop what I'm doing. Color?"

"Green," Stiles whispered. His eyelashes fluttered shut and Derek nearly groaned when he leaned into his touch, rolling his head to the side and baring his neck to him. His wolf wanted him to lean in and _take_ , mindlessly accept what was being so innocently offered. But he wasn't going to rush things. This was Stiles' first time being dominated in a scene and Derek was determined to do it right.

Derek began to leisurely explore, running his hands over the body of his submissive, mapping him with his hands as he'd admittedly wanted to do from the start. His alert gaze and sensitive hearing were paying close attention to the reactions Stiles would be having. It was important to him that he learn from the physical cues he was being given so that in time he would in turn be able to know his submissive's body as well as his own.

An intake of breath when his thumbs grazed Stiles' nipples made Derek smile. "Sensitive?" he asked quietly.

"Y-yes Sir," Stiles answered, stuttering slightly when Derek rubbed his thumbs over the hardening paps again. When he bit his lip to fight back a moan, Derek shook his head.

"Hey, no. Don't do that," Derek admonished lightly, raising one hand back to Stiles' face and cradling his cheek gently while popping his lower lip loose from his teeth with his thumb and gently rubbing it to soothe it. "Not tonight. I want to hear you. I want to know what you like, what makes you feel good, and this is how I'll learn. It will please me to know I am giving you pleasure."

Stiles nodded his head, the action causing him to nuzzle Derek's hand and making his Dom smile. "Okay," he agreed.

Derek took a moment to admire the beauty of the boy laid out before him like the most tempting of buffets. His gums tingled ever so slightly and he willed the wolf back down, determined to maintain his control. He resumed running his hands lightly over Stiles. Stroking the inner skin of his submissive's arms made goosebumps rise up and caused a delightful shiver. He traced lightly across strong collarbones before laying his palms flat on Stiles' chest and sliding them down, making sure to flick the nipples again as he passed, enjoying the low grunt he got in response. When Derek ran his fingers down Stiles' sides, the submissive jerked and huffed a laugh. His boy was ticklish. He placed his hands flat against Stiles' belly and just held them there, feeling the warm skin and the muscles underneath twitch in response. He began rubbing softly along the defined lines that outlined Stiles' hips, moving outward and carefully away from the now fully erect cock that strained for his attention. He grasped Stiles by the hips and gave them a squeeze, pleased when that earned a soft gasp from his submissive.

Derek continued his explorations, moving lower to stroke trim and muscular thighs and calves. Stiles wriggled above him, his breath coming in soft pants as Derek began working his way back up his legs on the inside, lightly scraping his nails against the sensitive skin of the inner part his thighs. He could see Stiles' cock throb in response. Although he was extremely tempted to keep teasing Stiles and making him wait, Derek knew what his boy wanted. There would be time for that when Stiles was better at control. His submissive was so beautiful, laying in his bed, breath coming in quick bursts, skin flushing a rosy pink and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His fingers were pale where they curled hard around the headboard bars, but he was careful not to move his hands away, making sure to obey.

"You're doing so well for me, Stiles. Being so good," Derek praised, pleased when Stiles' cheeks flushed pink in delight. He turned and leaned down to open the bottom drawer of his nightstand. As Laura promised, there were several lubricants in the drawer. He grabbed a tube of the easily recognizable KY but was momentarily distracted, then intrigued, by the selections of flavored lubes, heating and cooling lubes, the ever familiar Astroglide, and even a large container of Pjur Backdoor that he had heard rave reviews about but hadn't ever tried personally. When he had time he would have to investigate them further, but right now he had a much more pressing matter to tend to. He popped the cap and squeezed a dollop into his hand, flexing it to spread the lube and warm it some. He tossed the tube back into the drawer and turned back to his boy.

"Color?" Derek asked as he situated himself to lay next to Stiles with his lubricated hand hovering above his erection.

Stiles breathed out as though it had been punched out of him. " _Green_. Green, green, so very green."

"Good boy. Remember, you aren't to come. Not until I tell you. If you get close I want you to tell me, okay?" When Stiles nodded, Derek grinned wolfishly, eyes flashing blue before turning back to their normal color.

* * *

Stiles felt as though his heart was going to hammer out of his chest. His fingers ached slightly from their hard grip on the headboard, but he was not about to let go and have his Dom stop any of the amazing things he had been doing. His blood rushed under his skin like molten lava, thick and hot with want, heavy with submission. His skin tingled and felt almost electric everywhere Derek touched him, as though it crackled with its own energy. Stiles knew he was hard but he couldn't even _think_ of that, not when his Dom had told him not to come.

Having Derek's hands on him had been its own sort of sensual delight. Stiles had always been tactile by nature, like submissives generally were, but nothing had prepared him for the bliss that came with being touched by his Dom. He had nearly shivered in anticipation as Derek ran his hands all over him, because it felt as though every nerve ending he had was ablaze with sensation. Stiles simultaneously craved and dreaded for him to touch his cock, because he couldn't, he _wouldn't_ come until Derek told him he could. He would be a good boy.

When Derek finally wrapped a well lubed hand around his aching erection, Stiles nearly jerked his hips in response. It was apparent his Dom had anticipated his movement because he made a low, soothing noise while his other hand found its way to Stiles' hip to gently hold him in place on the bed. Stiles moaned helplessly, eyes fluttering shut as skilled fingers pumped him steadily. Each stroke sent a wave of undiluted pleasure through him, so different and so much better than his own hand had ever been.

" _God_ ," Stiles moaned when a twist of Derek's wrist sent another heated jolt of pleasure through him, causing his fingers to tighten even more around the bars of the bed frame.

Derek's low huff of laughter was amused. "You don't have to call me God, you know. Sir is fine."

"Oh, ok, wolf's— _ah!_ —got jokes, I see," Stiles snorted even as his eye roll turned from one of amused exasperation to one of ecstasy as Derek's fingers teased around the head of his dick in response to his sass. His Dom didn't reprimand him but instead began jerking him off quicker, pushing him towards the edge with experienced skill. Stiles tossed his head back, writhing and panting in harsh gasps while reminding himself over and over not to come.

" _Sir!_ Please, I'm close, I'm close!" Stiles gasped, hips jerking forward even with Derek holding him. Immediately, his Dom slid his hand to the base of Stiles' cock and wrapped around it tightly for a moment, not moving. Stiles moaned and struggled to regain some sort of control of himself. He had been told not to come and he wanted so much to please Derek.

Stiles was just beginning to come away from the edge when Derek began to move his hand slowly up and down his cock again. "You're doing so good, Stiles," Derek praised him. "Do you think you can handle a little more? I'm really enjoying the feel of your cock in my hand."

Stiles moaned softly, licking his lips and tasting the fine layer of sweat covering his skin. He nodded his head jerkily. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, wanting to wriggle in giddiness at the pleased satisfaction on his Dom's face.

"Such a good boy for me," Derek murmured proudly. "Being so good deserves a reward, doesn't it? Do you want to come, Stiles? Would you like me to make you come with my hand?"

Stiles nodded jerkily. "Please, Sir, it's so much, _please_ , I want to come so bad," he pleaded. "Please let me come."

Derek hummed under his breath in approval as he continued to stroke Stiles with a maddening touch. "Such pretty words coming from that pretty mouth. I want to do five more strokes, can you do that for me? After that you can come whenever you want to."

"Yes, Sir," Stiles said breathily, already trembling with the exertion of holding back. His grip on the headboard was so tight he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to unwrap his fingers from it. Derek leaned over to count out loud with his lips nearly pressed to Stiles', honey eyes held by green.

_"One...two...three...four...five..."_

Stiles closed his eyes as Derek captured his mouth with his own, swallowing the loud groan he made as he came hard over Derek's hand and his own belly. Sparks flashed behind his eyes and it was like wind rushing through his mind until he felt as though he was floating, as though time had no meaning. He could hear Derek whispering softly against his ear but couldn't understand what he was saying through the pleasant buzz humming in his brain. The bed dipped as his Dom shifted away, and Stiles whimpered softly in protest. Before he could mourn the loss too long, though, he felt a cool wipe being rubbed over his stomach to clean him up. He was vaguely aware of gentle hands working his fingers loose from the headboard, rubbing them until they began to regain some feeling. Warmth surrounded him and he gave himself into the sensation of being safe and cared for.

When his mind finally floated to the surface and back into his body, Stiles found himself being held tight against Derek's chest. His Dom was rubbing his back soothingly with one hand and massaging his hands with the other, all while pressing gentle kisses to his face and neck. A low, pleased rumble was coming from his throat. When Stiles shifted slightly, Derek loosened his arms and leaned up to smile at him.

"Hi there, pretty boy, welcome back," Derek said, rubbing his nose against Stiles' in an Eskimo kiss. "You did so well for me. Such a good boy. Do you think you can sit up against the pillows? You need to drink some water."

Stiles nodded agreeably, though he still felt practically boneless. With Derek's assistance, he sat up. He flexed his fingers, noting that while they still felt a little stiff from their death grip on the headboard, having Derek rubbing them had helped a lot. He himself felt loose, pliant, and pleasantly relaxed. When Derek had arranged the pillows behind and around Stiles to his satisfaction and had covered him with the blanket, he climbed out of the bed to go to the corner of the room where there was a new refrigerator Stiles hadn't seen there before. Stiles' eyes widened when he saw the large tattoo on his Dom's back. It was identical to the symbol on the first cuff he'd looked at today; a triskelion, Derek had called it. Werewolf skin didn't tattoo like human skin, and Stiles knew exactly what Derek had gone through to get that permanently etched on his back. He would have to ask about it later when his brain wasn't still pleasantly muddled from orgasm.

"How are your hands?" Derek called over his shoulder as he opened the refrigerator and took out two bottles of water, then took something from the basket on top.

Stiles smiled ruefully. It didn't really surprise him that Derek had noticed him flexing his fingers. They didn't hurt all that much, though, and he didn't want Derek worried about it. "It's not so bad. You rubbing them helped a lot, I think." When Derek nodded his head, Stiles knew his Dom could tell he wasn't lying.

When Derek came back to the bed and sat down, Stiles could plainly see the erection that was pushing at the front of the jeans he still wore. He accepted the bottle of water from his Dom and opened it, taking several swallows before replacing the cap. He noticed Derek was unwrapping a Hershey's kiss and smiled.

"Open," Derek instructed. Stiles opened his mouth and his Dom popped the candy in, then leaned forward to give his lips a quick smacking kiss. Stiles let it melt in his mouth, working it around with his tongue to savor the sweetness of the chocolate. When he looked up, he could see Derek staring at his mouth hungrily. He swallowed the chocolate, then licked his lips, heart beating faster as Derek's eyes followed his tongue's movement and his eyes darkened. Derek opened a second candy and indicated that Stiles should open his mouth again. This time, Derek slowly traced Stiles' lips with the candy before pushing it gently into his mouth. Stiles closed his lips around his Dom's fingers and licked them before he pulled them out of his mouth, causing Derek to growl softly. They stared at each other unblinkingly while Stiles chewed the chocolate. He hummed with pleasure as he swallowed, making sure to lick his lips again.

Stiles whimpered softly as Derek leaned forward and kissed him, his mouth hard and masterful, claiming Stiles' mouth like he owned it, like he had already claimed his body. Stiles wanted to crawl under his skin and stay there. He could feel the heat coming off of Derek in waves and felt a need to touch his Dom. Stiles knew Derek was still hard, and that wouldn't do at all. Suddenly it was very important to him that Derek come, too.

"Sir, please, can I make you come?" Stiles asked, shuddering as Derek scraped his teeth along the sensitive patch of skin below his ear where dark proof of his Dom's possession stood in dark contrast against the paleness of his skin.

Derek ran his lips lightly over the outer edge of Stiles' ear before teasing it with his tongue. "Is that what you want, pretty boy?" he asked, his breath hot against Stiles' neck.

 _Pretty boy._ Just hearing those words coming from his Dom made Stiles want to preen in happiness at knowing his Dom was pleased. Letting his sub instincts take over, he tilted his head slightly to the side, baring his throat in the way he knew Derek liked. Lowering his lashes, he licked his kiss-swollen lips and whispered softly, "Please, Sir, your boy wants to make you come."

A low growl sounded in the back of Derek's throat and his eyes flashed bright blue as he quickly moved to stand next to the bed. He looked around the room wildly as though searching for something. " _Shit_ ," he swore when it seemed he wasn't seeing what he wanted. Derek grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and tossed it on the floor.

"Remind me to get kneeling pillows. I want you comfortable when you're on your knees for me," Derek huffed, as Stiles scrambled off the bed, already anticipating what the pillow was for. He dropped to his knees and looked up at Derek with near breathless anticipation. His Dom cradled his face in one hand while reaching for the button of his jeans with the other.

"I want your mouth, Stiles. I want those perfect lips stretched wide around my cock. I want you to suck me until I'm close to coming. I won't come in your mouth, not tonight. I don't think you've earned that just yet. But one day I will, when you've shown me how much you deserve it." Derek smiled when he saw Stiles' lips part and his pupils dilate at just the mention of being good and earning something from him. His submissive's entire body give a visible shiver. "Do you want my cock, pretty boy?" Derek crooned as he kicked his jeans off and stood before Stiles in just his briefs.

Already reeling from Derek's seductive words, Stiles felt a mixed sensation of anticipation and anxiety. He had certainly seen his fair share of blow jobs while doing his "research" watching Internet porn to help him somewhat prepare for his future Dominant. Now that he was moments away from seeing and actually _touching_ a cock that wasn't his own, much less putting it _in his mouth_ , he wasn't quite sure exactly how to begin. So much for having a plan in place.

Should he dive right in? Jerk Derek off first? Kiss it? Lick it? Even with his briefs still on, Stiles was fairly certain Derek would be able to test his gag reflex. Oh, god, was he _going_ to gag? That would be both horrifying and embarrassing if he managed to choke on his Dom's dick his very first attempt at giving head. Maybe he was _too_ eager? Was it possible to be too enthusiastic? Maybe he would be incredibly sloppy and end up giving Derek the worst blow job he'd ever gotten, and Derek would be so disappointed he would never let Stiles blow him ever again. Or worse, decide he'd obviously made a mistake and make Stiles give back his cuff. His beautiful wolfy cuff that had just _called_ to him when he saw it.

"Stiles? Are you okay?"

Stiles realized he hadn't responded to Derek and was actually panting softly as he worked himself up in his head over his lack of experience with oral sex. Derek sounded concerned and his hand that was still cupping Stiles' cheek was gentle as it tilted his head back to make Stiles look at him. He swallowed heavily and nodded. "Yes, Sir, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? What's your color? Do we need to stop?" Derek asked as he looked Stiles over carefully, head tilted slightly as though he was listening to make sure Stiles wasn't about to freak out.

" _No!_ I mean, green, my color is green. I'm okay, I'm just a little nervous about doing this. I've never done it before and I don't want you disappointed with me," Stiles confessed. He was worried he had already screwed up as it was, that Derek would just decide not to bother, and Stiles really didn't want that, because he wanted so much to please his Dom and show just what a good boy he could be. He snuck another look at the cotton-covered bulge at eye level and swallowed heavily.

Derek gave him a little smile. "I'm _not_ going to be disappointed with you, Stiles," he said firmly. "I know this is probably a bit overwhelming for you and I understand. We're in this together, right? I know you haven't done this before and that's part of my job, to teach you and take care of you. Do you trust me? If you aren't sure of something or aren't comfortable, remember you can safeword at any time."

Stiles nodded. He actually felt better already, just confessing his anxiety and having Derek reassure him. Well, he had always been a quick and enthusiastic learner, and there was no time like the present to get started. He put his hands on the elastic waistband of Derek's briefs and asked, "May I take these off, Sir?"

Derek looked as though he relaxed slightly once he realized Stiles was really okay. He nodded and stood still with his hands at his sides as Stiles pulled the briefs down, carefully so as not to catch them on the erection that rose hard and proud from his Dom's groin. He stared at it for a moment, taking in every inch of exposed skin. Wow. If Stiles had ever had any question about his more-than-passing interest in dick, it was out the window now. He could still without a doubt appreciate soft curves and breasts, but he couldn't wait to get his mouth on _that_. In fact, it had just become his top priority in life.

When Derek stepped out of his briefs and kicked them to the side, Stiles scooted forward on his pillow to get closer. He wrapped his hand carefully around the base of Derek's cock, still a little unsure how exactly to proceed. He decided to start by giving it a slow and slightly tentative pump, which earned him an encouraging noise from Derek. Yeah, he could do this. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against the hooded head, kissing it softly. When he heard his Dom suck in a quick breath, he did it again, then began to work his way down the hard length of shaft, small kisses and kitten licks until he had his face pressed in the dark hair at the base. He breathed in deeply, thinking that if someone had told him he would enjoy the mixed scents of sweat and clean musk coming from another man's body, he might not have believed it. He did now. It was kind of intoxicating.

Turning his attention back to what he was doing, Stiles leaned down a bit and ran his tongue slowly up the underside of Derek's cock from base to head. When he reached the end, he slipped it under the edge of foreskin to lick experimentally around the head. There was a salty, slightly bitter taste that Stiles identified as pre-come and though it was definitely different, it wasn't unpleasant at all.

Stiles leaned back, licking his lips and taking a moment to savor the taste in his mouth a little longer. He noticed that Derek's hands were no longer loose at his sides but instead were curled into fists.

"Sir? Am I doing okay so far?" Stiles asked, having a moment of self-doubt.

Derek's face was a little strained, but he was quick to answer. "You're doing just fine, Stiles," he assured him. "It feels really good."

Stiles let out a small sigh of relief. Feeling a little more emboldened, he took a deep breath and sucked the head of Derek's dick into his mouth. He took a moment to get used to it, his lips feeling a bit stretched around the girth, and then gave a little suck before licking under the foreskin again.

" _Jesus Christ,_ " Derek hissed, moving his feet slightly wider apart. His hands moved as though to grab Stiles by the head and then fluttered back to his sides to repeatedly open and close into fists.

Stiles decided that he must be doing something right. Maybe he wasn't horrible at this after all. He fully intended to give this his very best effort, because he wanted so much for this to be good for his Dom. All those videos he had watched had made cock sucking look like it was nothing at all, but now that he actually had one in his mouth he decided they did nothing to make one understand the feeling of _power_ it gave. He knew with no doubt that at that moment he was the center of Derek's world, and it was a heady feeling indeed. He moaned, in turn eliciting a moan from Derek, and that did it. He _had_ to have more.

Stiles opened his mouth a little wider and relaxed his tongue so he could slide his lips a little further down Derek's cock. He took a breath through his nose and slid just a little further, making sure not to take too much and gag himself. Slowly, he pulled back, running his tongue along the underside and sucking lightly as he went. There was another small burst of tangy flavor in his mouth, and he took a moment to savor it before swallowing around the head.

" _God_ , Stiles," Derek groaned, running the shaky fingers of one hand through Stiles' hair. "You look incredible like this. I knew you would. _That mouth of yours._ You're doing so well for me. So good."

Stiles didn't answer but instead looked up at his Dom from underneath his lashes as he moved his mouth back down, again taking Derek as deep as he dared. He hollowed out his cheeks and dragged his mouth up, then sank it down again. His jaw felt a little strained, but the ache was definitely worth it. He knew with practice he would get better, be able to take Derek deeper, and he decided that he was definitely looking forward to it. In the meantime, he wrapped his hand around the base of Derek's cock to handle what his mouth couldn't. Remembering a move he had seen in several pornos, he started moving his hand along with his mouth, sliding them both up and down together. His spit helped make things a bit more slippery, and his hand and lips slid along Derek's flesh with ease as Stiles gained confidence with what he was doing.

It was so much better than Stiles had ever imagined, and considering the scope of his imagination, that was saying something. Derek's cock was throbbing, hot and hard in his mouth, its texture smooth and almost silky. The taste, once he got used to it, was definitely not bad. As he worked his Dom over with his mouth and his hand and listened to the pleasured noises he was making, Stiles decided that for a first time effort he hadn't done half bad. He was hard again, himself, but that didn't concern him as he concentrated on bringing Derek closer to the edge. When Derek pulled on his hair, Stiles hummed in approval, which in turn made Derek groan loudly.

"Stiles," rasped Derek, his voice sounding slightly wrecked, "I'm about to come. I need you to stop now."

Stiles felt a little pang of disappointment, pulling his mouth off Derek's cock with a little pop. Even though he had really been enjoying taking care of his Dom, he probably wasn't quite ready for him to come in his mouth. That made earning the privilege even more exciting, he had to admit. He looked up at his Dom from under his lashes, wondering what was going to happen next.

Derek groaned and motioned to the bed. "Those _eyes_ , I swear to god. Up on the bed, Stiles. Lay down on the pillows on your back. Don't touch yourself."

Stiles scrambled to his feet, quickly obeying. He rearranged the scattered pillows and lay back, looking expectantly at his Dom to see what happened next.

Derek stroked his cock as he walked to the bed and climbed on it. "I wish you could have seen yourself," he murmured, moving to straddle Stiles' thighs. "You looked so good on your knees with your lips wrapped around my cock. God, your fucking _mouth_ , Stiles. Your lips look all swollen and red right now and it's all I can do not to come on your face. I bet you'd look so pretty, all covered in my come. Maybe one day we'll try that, what do you think?"

Without waiting for an answer, Derek moved so that he was laying on top of Stiles, moving so that their cocks were lined up together. Stiles caught his breath as his Dom began moving against him, rubbing their cocks together in a sinfully delicious manner that was going to drive him out of his mind, especially when Derek leaned up slightly and moved his hand between them to grab both their cocks and began jerking them together.

"I'm close," Derek breathed. "We'll start working on your control later, but this time it's okay for you to come whenever you need to."

Having had Derek's dick in his mouth and now his hand jerking Stiles' dick next to his own, along with his permission to come must have done something for Stiles. He was tossing his head back and coming in what seemed like record time, painting his belly a second time with hot, white stripes. That seemed to be all Derek needed, because within moments he, too, was coming between them, breathing in and out in harsh pants.

Stiles made a low noise of pleasure when Derek began rubbing their mixed come into his skin as he'd done the night before. His Dom looked sated and pleased, a low rumble coming from his chest as he again marked Stiles as his. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he once more leaned down to lick Stiles' belly clean. Stiles flinched when at one point Derek's ministrations hit a ticklish spot, but he was far too blissed out to do more than snicker and mumble "Tickles," when Derek huffed at him.

When Derek finally collapsed on top of him, Stiles wrapped his arms tightly around his Dom's neck and reveled in their closeness. The weight on him was pleasant and gave him a sensation of warmth, safety, and comfort, of being owned and cared for. Derek's hands were slowly moving, one softly stroking him, the other reaching up to caress the leather cuff on his wrist, and he lay with his face firmly planted in the juncture of Stiles' neck and shoulder, breathing deeply and making occasional chuffs of what Stiles was positive was satisfaction. He was warm and pleasantly buzzed with the afterglow of two awesome and not self-induced orgasms, he had managed to slip into subspace for a time, and he was pretty sure that even in his inexperience he had rocked his Dom's world. Making a soft noise of contentment, Stiles closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep held tightly in his Dom's embrace.

* * *

Derek lay quietly, listening as Stiles' breathing became slower and deeper, indicating that he was asleep. His heart beat steadily in his chest, the sound rhythmic and comforting. Even though Stiles hadn't indicated any discomfort, Derek was sure he must be getting heavy even if Stiles had been able to fall asleep. Careful not to shake the bed, Derek slid slowly to the side. He raised Stiles' arm that wore his cuff and pressed his lips softly to the soft leather before silently sliding out of the bed.

The moon had risen while they were playing, and Derek quietly slid the balcony door open to step outside. The night air was cool against his bare skin, but by no means uncomfortable with his body's supernatural system. Soft moonlight illuminated the back yard and reflected off the water in the pool below. It was due to be a full moon in just a couple of days, and Derek could feel the pull as he always did. This time seemed different, though, which was interesting. He hadn't needed to be locked up on the full moon in years, so that wasn't a concern anyway, but what was intriguing was how settled he felt this time, even on the cusp of it.

After Kate had deceived him and killed his entire family, Derek had been wracked with self-doubt and loathing. He had sworn, had been _determined_ that he would never take on a regular submissive, since obviously he couldn't be counted on to get it right and caused harm rather than good. He had kept his dominance in check and avoided letting himself from going feral by going to the sub clubs frequently and regularly. If he had lost himself to the wolf by not tending to his dominant nature, Peter and Laura would have had no choice but to put him down, and he just couldn't do that to them, couldn't be the source of even more pain to what was left of his family. He had thought that he was doing okay, keeping himself sane by working hard and tending to his needs as he saw fit. He had politely but firmly rebuffed any offers from submissives and all efforts by his sister and uncle to have him take on a submissive of his own until finally Peter had taken matters into his own hands and then pulled rank to make it happen. Derek had resented the hell out of him for it.

Derek was not prepared for how blown away he would be by Stiles.

His control that he had always prided himself on had been tested from the beginning. Never had the wolf been so close to the surface. Derek had never had such a keen sense of _want, need, own, MINE_ in his life. He had played with submissives of all types, had been a favorite Dominant among the clubs. He had never wanted to keep any of them. There had never been a submissive among them that had pleased him as much as Stiles had tonight. Every noise he had made had been music to Derek's ears, his eagerness to please had made the dominance in Derek's blood sing. What he lacked in experience, Stiles made up for in sheer enthusiasm and a desire to serve his Dom.

Derek would be lying if he said it didn't give him a deep sense of satisfaction to be the first one to see Stiles like this, be the one to teach him so many things. His boy was incredibly beautiful, and Derek could admit to himself—though never to Peter, because the bastard was smug enough as it was—he was lucky that another dominant hadn't already claimed him. Why that hadn't happened, he couldn't understand. Stiles was everything he had ever wanted in a submissive, he as near perfect as he could be, how was it that no one else had recognized it? Their loss was Derek's gain, though, and it was just as well Peter had pulled strings to get Stiles to be his, because if Stiles _had_ been in another claim, Derek wasn't so sure he might not have risked trying to take him from his dominant. Even the idea of someone else having Stiles made the wolf restless under his skin, made him want to snap and bite at something. He had wanted Stiles from the very first moment he had seen him, and he could admit that to himself now.

A soft noise of discontent reached his sensitive ears, and Derek quickly went back inside, making sure to lock the balcony door behind him. Stiles was curled up into a ball and had worked his way over to Derek's side of the bed. A small frown marred his sleeping face and his cuffed arm was stretched out as though he was looking for something. Even in sleep his boy reached for him. Derek felt a little pang, scolding himself for getting lost in his thoughts and being gone too long. Touch and contact were important for a submissive, especially early in a claim, and Stiles was obviously feeling the discomfort of not having his Dom near to him.

Derek walked to the bed, his bare feet making no noise on the thick carpeting. He gently slid Stiles' arm over and lowered himself into the bed, careful not to jostle his sleeping submissive. When he was settled, he turned Stiles on his side and pulled him back so that he held him tightly to his chest. As soon as his arms were around him, Derek pressed a kiss to the dark mark he had sucked on the skin below Stiles' ear, rubbing his face on his neck and scenting him so that he smelled even more strongly of _Derek_. Stiles had relaxed as soon as Derek had held him close, and he sighed softly in his sleep as his Dom happily rubbed his face along his neck and shoulder.

Their very nature made them need this, need each other. But maybe there was something more to this, something more than just a Dom and sub together out of necessity. It was too early to tell, but as Derek lost himself to the call of sleep, his boy marked, safe and cared for in his arms, he felt a small spark of something ignite deep in his belly. Something very much like hope.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Is it possible to die of shame from not updating in forever?**
> 
> **I swear, I seem determined to find out. This chapter is once again woefully late, and I am so sorry. I struggled with it a good bit, and I am still not sure if I am pleased with the end product, but I already have started on the next chapter and I have hopes for it to come to me easier and to be posted in a more reasonable time frame. Wish me luck *fingers crossed***
> 
> **Many thanks to all who have taken time to review and/or visit my Tumblr. When things get hard for me, you guys help pull me through. Leg humps and sloppy kisses for[Shelley](http://st-sebklaine.tumblr.com), for helping me when I was having difficulty and putting up with my whining, for [Sies](http://kurtsweenie.tumblr.com) for her beta skillz and keysmashes that let me know when I did something good, for [Sam](http://idareu2bme.tumblr.com) for her encouragement and for listening when I needed it, and for [Beth](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com) for making me pretty things and for being my friend. I love you all.**
> 
> * * *

  


* * *

Stiles stirred and stretched as he slowly transitioned from sleep to wakefulness. The soft morning light was streaming through the blinds and lit the bedroom with a pale glow. He couldn't tell how exactly what time it was, but it had to be early; usually on weekends he slept in until at least noon, so the sun was higher when he got up. Yet he felt well rested, content, and surprisingly alert for the earliness of the hour. Derek lay behind him with his arm snug around his waist, and while part of Stiles didn't want to leave this spot, _ever_ , he was aware that he needed to pee, and soon. He carefully wriggled out of Derek's grasp, pausing when his Dom grumbled something in his sleep. When he was sure he hadn't wakened him by moving around, Stiles slid stealthily out of the bed and moved quickly in the direction of the bathroom. Eager to return to his Dom, he quickly took care of his business, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth. No morning breath for him, no way.

When he returned to the bedroom, Stiles stopped and took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Derek had flipped to face the opposite direction and lay on his side in peaceful repose. Pale light bathed him with a golden glow and Stiles watched as his shoulders rose and fell with the deep, steady breaths of sleep. He carefully crawled back into the bed, careful not to disturb Derek. At some point in time during the night his Dom had kicked the comforter off of him and when he turned over the sheet had slipped low so that it draped more over his thighs than actually covering him. Even though the room was cool, Stiles could feel the warmth radiating from Derek's body. Werewolves, seriously. Still, Stiles could vaguely remember Derek pulling the covers over them both last night to cuddle him and keep him warm after their scene, and he couldn't help the blissful grin that broke out.

Running his eyes over the bare form, Stiles took his time appreciating the raw masculine beauty of the sleeping wolf next to him. Derek's jawline, even when relaxed, was strong and dark with stubble that was heavier after another day's growth. The dark triskelion tattoo stood out in stark contrast between Derek's shoulder blades, the mystical whorls etched on the surface of his skin by painful ritual. Stiles wanted to run his lips over it, try to soothe the past hurts that had led Derek to put himself through the process. Maybe he would trace it with his tongue instead, see if the skin there was more sensitive. His Dom's shoulders were broad, his back smooth and muscular, torso tapering down to his narrow waist where two dimples formed just above the gentle curve of his ass. He bet his hands would fit them perfectly, or even the heels of his feet when he had his legs wrapped around Derek's waist.

Stiles felt a warm blush suffusing his face as his gaze traveled further down to the tight roundness of Derek's ass and wondered what it would feel like in his hands, flexing under his grasp as his Dom thrust into him again and again. He shifted as his body began to stir in response to his thoughts and before he knew it, he was moving forward to curve himself around Derek's body, soaking up his warmth and shivering slightly as body contact made his cock start to harden. He wrapped his arm around Derek's waist and ran his hand upward, slowly rubbing from the tautness of his stomach to the firmness of his pectoral muscles. Leaning up on his elbow, Stiles watched his hand's movement in fascination. Derek's cock was soft between muscular thighs and Stiles stared in unabashed fascination. It was probably creepy to be perving on Derek while he slept, but Stiles was never one to back away from doing research. After all, one never knew when they would need to know how many seconds were in a Leap Year, or that rubber bands last longer if they are refrigerated. Everyone always did say he was a brilliant student. Focusing on Derek's cock, Stiles wondered if he dared to stroke Derek to full hardness and what it would be like to wake his Dom with another blow job. He would need to be sure to ask if Derek was okay with the idea of alarm via Stiles' mouth on his cock, though, because while clearly it was an awesome idea in theory, not everyone was comfortable with the actual act. They hadn't talked about any sort of morning ritual or anything yet, but Stiles would enthusiastically support whatever involved getting his mouth on that again.

He might be already developing an addiction to Derek's cock. There were definitely worse things that could happen. Just thinking about servicing his Dom made Stiles' heart pound and his cock give a very interested twitch, and he had to force his hips not to move so he didn't end up dry humping Derek while he slept. Talk about awkward.

Caught up in his fantasy musings, Stiles didn't realize the cadence of Derek's breathing had changed and he was blinking into wakefulness, sleepy gaze sharpening with quiet awareness as he inhaled deeply. He didn't know his Dom was awake until he spoke.

"See something you like?" Derek asked, his voice husky with sleep and sounding amused.

Startled at the sudden interruption of his thoughts, Stiles yelped and jerked back, landing perilously close to the edge of the bed. Derek twisted to grab him, his hand gentle and steady as he pulled Stiles back to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," apologized Stiles, heart still racing as Derek began rubbing his cheek against his neck.

"It's okay. I heard your heartbeat speed up," Derek explained as he licked a slow stripe up Stiles' neck and smirking when he shivered. "I like that you were touching me. You didn't have to stop."

Stiles couldn't help grinning at that. Now that Derek was awake and had pretty much said he didn't feel violated by Stiles practically feeling him up while he slept, his hands began exploring with more purpose. He placed both hands on Derek's cheeks and felt the growth of beard there. His neck tingled where Derek had rubbed his face against it and he enjoyed the raspy prickle against his palms. Gathering his courage together, he leaned forward and rubbed his nose against Derek's before tentatively pressing their lips together. A pleased noise sounded low from Derek's throat and his grasp tightened for a moment before he broke the kiss and pushed himself away to slide back a bit, breathing a little heavier than before. Stiles couldn't keep the whine of protest from escaping, and Derek groaned softly before pressing his forehead against Stiles'.

"We need to go to your father's house and get you packed and moved in," Derek said, the struggle evident in his eyes.

"Right now?" Stiles asked dubiously. He had a much better idea, one that involved the two of them staying exactly where they were and ended in mutually awesome orgasms, maybe breakfast somewhere along the way to refuel before going for round two, or maybe even three. Getting his things from his Dad's wasn't that urgent, was it? "Trust me. My dad will understand why we aren't there at the asscrack of dawn the day after our claim," he said coaxingly as he ran an exploratory finger down to tease at Derek's navel.

"I know that," Derek replied as he firmly grabbed Stiles' hand to halt its teasing and willfully ignored the ensuing pout from his submissive, "but I want to get it over and done with. I'll feel more settled knowing you are here and have all your things moved in. The sooner we get to it the sooner we are finished and don't have to worry about it. Besides," his voice lowered darkly and carried a definite tone of promise, "I have plans for you that don't involve leaving this house once we get started."

Stiles opened his mouth to say he didn't actually _need_ anything from his Dad's just yet, but when he felt Derek's hand slide down his belly to dip lower and drag his fingers teasingly along his cock, it snapped shut again. Any ability to form words was completely lost and all he could manage was a garbled _"Hhnnnhhhhh."_

"Were you going to say something?" Derek asked, the smirk obvious in his voice as he lightly teased Stiles' balls before moving down and back further to brush feather light across his hole. "Argue with me, perhaps?"

Shaking his head, Stiles choked on his sudden intake of air and his hands grabbed at Derek's shoulders, fingers digging in as his blood pounded rhythmically through his body to pool at his groin. "I...I..." he stammered, unable to put together a coherent thought as his Dom's fingers returned to his now rock hard cock to tap rapidly around the head in a fluttering move that was undoubtedly intended to drive him out of his mind and was clearly succeeding immensely.

"It would please me to have your things moved in," Derek said silkily, and whoa, unfair because he obviously already knew just what to say to get to Stiles, because Stiles wanted more than anything to please his Dom in every way he could. "All your things here so you don't need for anything, and your clothes will start to smell like mine. That will please me immensely." He hadn't stopped his featherlight movements on Stiles' cock this entire time and between his Dom's talented fingers and the things he was saying, Stiles was starting to wonder how much he was going to be able to take. His balls were starting to grow heavy with that telltale sensation, and as much as he hated to bring things to a screeching halt, if he didn't say something fast he was going to come without permission. Hello, disaster!

"I need you to stop!" Stiles blurted out. He was both relieved and regretful when Derek froze and yanked his hand away from his cock with a slightly panicked look as if he'd been burned. Not wanting Derek to get the wrong idea, Stiles hurried to explain. "It felt so good, _too_ good. I was afraid I was gonna come and you haven't said I could."

Derek blinked twice and then the edges of his mouth lifted in a half smile as relieved understanding filled his eyes. "I see. Thank you for telling me. Such a good boy."

Stiles shuddered as the warm praise of his Dom flowed over him, surprisingly just as satisfying as the teasing touch had been. He would never have believed that before; even when Scott has spoken of how pleasing his Domme took precedence over his own pleasure every time and that her praise was better than actually coming himself, Stiles hadn't quite believed it. No way words could be greater than or equal to a mind melting orgasm. Huh. Well, never let it be said that Stiles Stilinski wasn't open minded and willing to change his belief system when the occasion called for it. He found that pleasing his Dom had become one of his top priorities in life and not even a single regret could be found.

Speaking of pleasing his Dom...

"Derek? Sir? Can I-that is, I'd really like it if you'd let me make you come," Stiles said, pleased that although his voice was somewhat breathy, it was steady rather than a gasping croak.

Derek's eyes darkened and he let go of Stiles to sit up. He took Stiles' cuffed wrist and pressed a kiss to it before unbuckling the cuff and taking it off, and Stiles made a noise of confused protest that Derek silenced with another kiss to his now-bare wrist. "Go start the shower," he instructed over his shoulder as he turned and rose from the bed, placing the cuff on his nightstand and removing his own to place next to it. "I'll join you shortly." He turned around and the only word Stiles could think of to describe the gaze Derek raked over him was _hungry_ , traveling from his undoubtedly bed-tousled hair down to his hard cock and back up again. "You know the rules." His eyes flashed blue and Stiles shivered in response as he moved quickly to obey. His cock seemed to throb harder and he smiled to himself wryly as he thought of how ironic it was that for a submissive known for having issues with authority, it seemed he maybe had a thing for displays of power. It was a turn on that his Dom was so strong and capable of supernatural acts of power, yet had been so incredibly gentle in taking care of him last night. If he wasn't careful, Stiles would end up ruined for any other Dom _ever_.

But he didn't want to think of that right now.

What he _did_ want to think of was obeying his Dom and maybe earning the chance to blow him in the shower. Stiles scampered to the bathroom and opened the glass door. Remembering the hot water came out already heated, he carefully started the shower. He adjusted the dials until he got it to the perfect temperature; nice and hot, thank you very much, and hoped Derek wouldn't mind. If he did, they could adjust it when his Dom joined him. Not wanting to waste any time, he jumped in and made fast work of wetting his hair and massaging shampoo through it. Once he rinsed and was in no danger of getting soap in his eyes, Stiles reached for his body wash. His hand hesitated for a moment as he considered whether he should use Derek's body wash or his own, then remembering his Dom's comments about liking for him to smell like himself, he grabbed Derek's body wash and began soaping himself up. The heavy spray of water was loud in his ears and he missed the soft sound of the door opening behind him.

Even though he was still hard, Stiles found that he didn't have the slightest urge to stroke himself, not even just to take the edge off. Shower time had been a staple of Stiles Time ever since he'd discovered how much easier his hand moved over slick skin, and normally he wouldn't have even hesitated to take himself in hand. The fact that he wasn't remotely tempted to pleasure himself even just a _little_ was testimony to how receptive his submission already was to Derek. As he ran his soapy hands over his ass and daringly slid one curious finger across his hole, though, he couldn't stop the hard spike of arousal low in his belly. He moaned softly and hoped his Dom would hurry to join him.

* * *

Derek prowled around his room restlessly, determined to give Stiles a few moments of privacy before joining him. His submissive hadn't made it easy for him, waking him up with touches that were all the more seductive for their innocence. Stiles' heart had been pounding and the air was thick with the spicy scent of arousal. Derek had been consciously aware of the heat of Stiles' hardness behind him and the effort it cost his boy not to rub against him. He was impressed with the amount of control Stiles was already showing; a submissive in their first claim usually struggled with their urges and had to be taught to master them. It was just one more thing that made Stiles stand out from other submissives.

It certainly wreaked havoc on Derek's intentions to move slowly and train Stiles in steps, rather than all at once. He had never been with a virgin submissive before; the Sub Clubs he went to only hired experienced submissives, although it was known that some of the shadier clubs out there would charge a hefty premium price for a sub's first time. He had never been interested before, but knowing he was giving Stiles all his firsts made his wolf want to howl in satisfaction. Plenty of Dominants would have already fucked their submissive, especially one that was so eager, but Derek felt that Stiles deserved better. He deserved to experience things of a sexual nature at a pace designed to teach and titillate, rather than lose his virginity and then learn other things, all because his Dom wasn't patient enough to teach him the pleasures of the slow build. Derek didn't want Stiles to regret anything about their time together, but he especially didn't want him to regret his first time.

Not like he did.

His first time had been in the back seat of Kate's car behind the Beacon Hills High cafeteria after hours _("It's the perfect place, no one ever goes back there and there's no security at all. We won't be disturbed...")_ and had been little more than a sloppy hand job to get him hard before Kate had been instructing him on what to do _("Come on, Derek, harder than that, I want to actually feel it...")_ and at the time he had been so nervous and excited and caught up in the illicitness of the whole affair with the pretty substitute teacher who wanted him to be her Dom even though she had experience and he wasn't even tattooed yet _("You already know you're a Dom, right? All the tattoo does is make it official, and I don't need that for you to dominate me...")_ that after fumbling with the condom and finally getting it on, he had only lasted minutes, pumping between her thighs in a few quick, short thrusts before coming _("Well, maybe next time you can do better...")_. Everything about it had been wrong. To this day Derek couldn't think of it without revulsion and shame and the utter humiliation that he hadn't recognized there was not a submissive bone in her body.

His first time had been stolen from him, and Derek was determined that when he and Stiles finally took that step it was something Stiles would be able to look back on with fondness and pleasure. The added benefit of teasing his sub and making him beg along the way was simply a bonus for Derek. Happily resolved in his plans, he went to join Stiles in the shower. The sound of water running and hands moving over slick skin had been teasing at his sensitive hearing the entire time, and the erection that had softened at remembering Kate came back in full force. Padding across the room, he quietly opened the door to the bathroom.

And nearly fell to his knees.

The air was thick with warm steam that was heavy with the scent of Stiles. It was mixed in with the spicy aroma of arousal that was made even more potent in the trapped confines of the heated room, and Derek was sure he was salivating. To his pleasure, he recognized the scent of his own body wash and realized Stiles must be using it. He stood silently for a moment, watching Stiles through the clear glass as he stood under the heavy spray of water. His submissive was beautiful to look at, lean and muscular, and Derek took his time running his appreciative gaze over the bare skin on display. Stiles was wet and flushed pink from the heat, and his soapy hands ran smoothly over his body as he bathed. Derek heard the quick intake of breath as Stiles ran his hands over his chest and remembered how sensitive those nipples had been the night before and how he had teased them.

_God._

Stiles continued to wash, oblivious to the presence of his Dom, and Derek felt a rush of heady pleasure at watching his submissive perform his ablutions. Voyeurism had never been his thing before, but clearly it had serious potential. There was no scent of come in the heated air and even though he faced away from him, Derek instinctively knew Stiles had obeyed and not touched himself. While he watched in fascination, Stiles ran his soapy hands over the curves of his ass. When Stiles dipped a finger between the cheeks to rub across his hole, his soft moan went straight to Derek's cock, and he had to swallow his responding groan. Blood pulsed hot and heavy through his veins and he decided he had deprived himself of his submissive long enough.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked mischievously as he tapped gently on the glass door.

To Derek's amusement, Stiles squawked in surprise and turned around so fast he was hit full in the face by a jet of water streaming from one of the shower heads. He stepped back and hurriedly rubbed the water from his face. "Yeah, sure! Of course!" he babbled as he pushed the door open to allow Derek entry. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to enjoy the view," Derek smirked as he wrapped his arms around his boy and pulled him close, noting with approval that Stiles was still hard. "Mmmmmm, you smell good," he purred low in Stiles' ear before licking up his neck. The shiver he got in response delighted him and he added, "You taste even better."

"I used your body wash. I hope that's okay," Stiles said, sounding a little nervous. Derek smiled and hummed his approval as he leaned back under the spray to wet his hair and body down. He ran his hands musingly over his beard and wondered if he wanted to take the time to trim it today or put it off until another time. He liked the sensation of rubbing it against Stiles' skin and seeing the marks it left behind gave him a sense of keen satisfaction, so he wouldn't be shaving it off altogether, but since they were going to the Sheriff's house today it might be best to at least neaten it up just a little. Grabbing his shampoo, he massaged a small amount into his beard before shampooing his hair. When he was finished, he backed under the spray to rinse all the soap thoroughly so as not to dry out his skin.

Stepping out from under the shower heads, Derek shook himself to clear the water from his eyes and heard Stiles chuckling in amusement. He cracked open one eye to shoot his boy a mock stern glare.

"I better not hear the first dog joke, Stiles, or I swear you'll spend the rest of this shower on your knees in the corner facing the wall," Derek threatened with a smirk, and even if it wasn't obvious to Stiles that he was only playing with him, his words lost some of their impact when water ran into his mouth while he talked and he had to spit to blow it out.

Stiles looked unintimidated and completely unrepentant. "Whatever, it gives you an excuse to stare at my ass," he said with a sunny grin.

Derek straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin so that he appeared to look down at Stiles, even with their similar height. "I'll have you know that if that's what I want to do, I don't need an excuse, I can just make it happen," he retorted. When he reached for the shelf where his body wash normally was, it wasn't there. Turning back to look at Stiles, he raised an eyebrow as his submissive held up the bottle, looking almost shy.

"I wondered if maybe you'd let me bathe you," Stiles explained hopefully, biting his lower lip in the way he had that seemed guaranteed to melt away some of Derek's brain cells.

"I see," Derek said, studying Stiles closely. "Want to take care of me?" he asked, feeling both pleased and even more turned on.

Stiles inhaled and nodded vigorously. The movement loosened drops of water from his hair, and Derek found himself captivated by the sight of Stiles' honey eyes framed by wet lashes. It seemed to make them stand out even more than normal and he breathlessly wondered if it was possible to drown without being underwater.

"Do you think I should let you?" Derek asked, hoping to buy himself some time to refocus on the conversation at hand instead of the incredible need to hustle Stiles back to his bed and not leave it for the foreseeable future.

Stiles grinned impishly. "Well, I've been good this morning," he pointed out. "I haven't touched myself except to wash."

Derek gave him an amused smirk. "Such sass," he observed. "You think you deserve a reward for doing as I told you?"

"Well, no. Actually, I was hoping that you'd let me bathe you and that if I did a good job maybe you'd let me blow you again before we went to my dad's," Stiles answered, voice soft under the rushing water but still audible to Derek's ears. As if Stiles' words weren't enticing enough, he ducked his head and looked up at Derek through those wet lashes.

 _Christ_. This boy was going to kill him.

Derek thought quickly. It was good that Stiles was already telling him what he wanted and giving him some insight to what he liked. It was a relief, actually, to know that Stiles seemed to like giving blow jobs. He had done so incredibly well last night, especially for his first time, and Derek wasn't ashamed to admit to himself that he had a serious fixation for his submissive's mouth. If Stiles hadn't liked performing oral sex, Derek would have done without, but a part of him would have mourned the loss. That Stiles was already wanting to perform a service for him to earn the reward of sucking his cock was enough to make Derek even harder, and he decided he'd better say something quickly so they could get started. It would be an incredibly erotic tease to have his boy rubbing his hands all over his wet body to build up towards a blow job. Derek couldn't remember when he'd felt so eager. He had heard of erotic bathing but had never done it before. There wasn't time for it today, but he was suddenly appreciative of Peter's insistence on installing a hot water tank that would allow for lengthy showers without the water running cold. He could see many lengthy showers with his submissive in their future.

Nodding his head, Derek said, "Okay. My only rule for this is I want your hands, no washcloth or loofah this time. We are under a bit of a time crunch today, so while I want you to do a good job, I want it done in a timely fashion. I promise you that in the future we will make time for proper showers together where we take care of each other. Does that sound good?"

Stiles popped the cap on the body wash and poured some into his hand. "Sounds great. Maybe you'll let me shampoo your hair and beard next time, too?"

Derek liked the idea of those capable looking fingers running through his hair and over his face. "Maybe I'll indulge you," he said as he watched Stiles rub his hands together to coat them both with soap. Stiles stepped closer to him and placed his hands on Derek's shoulders, rubbing at them firmly before sliding down his arms. He linked their fingers for a brief moment before using his thumbs to briefly massage at Derek's hands and then moving back up along the more tender skin of his inner arms.

"Can you raise your arms a minute?" asked Stiles, his voice sounding a bit more hoarse than usual. Derek complied by placing his hands on the back of his neck. He managed not to flinch when Stiles began soaping his armpits, but to his chagrin a snort escaped him. Stiles' eyes lit up and he laughed, "Looks like I'm not the only one who's ticklish!"

Derek did his best to look stern, no easy feat as Stiles ran his hands down his sides and along his rib cage. "Don't make me jerk off in the shower instead of letting you have your way, Stiles," he groused, and nearly regretted it as Stiles poked his lush lower lip out in a pout.

"But sir, aren't I doing a good job?" Stiles cajoled as he reached around to rub his soapy hands up Derek's back, bringing their bodies closer together. Their cocks slid against each other and they both hissed at the contact.

Derek tried to frown but found he couldn't. Instead he placed his hands on Stiles' hips and leaned forward to give him a quick smacking kiss on the lips. "You are a menace," he grumbled, even though his voice held a tone of amusement. "Finish up so I can put that mouth to a much better use than sassing me."

Stiles caught his breath and nodded. He made quick work of bathing Derek's back and shoulders, commenting, "I should probably have you turn around for this but I kind of like where I am right now."

Derek silently agreed. Every move Stiles made caused them to rub against each other, and Derek felt like most of the blood in his body had rushed south to gather at his groin. When Stiles stepped back away from him, it took all the control Derek had not to pull him back again, but then Stiles dropped gracefully to his knees. Derek adjusted his stance a bit wider, and Stiles made quick work of bathing his legs, massaging at his thighs and calves. His hands slid up along the back of Derek's thighs to somewhat hesitantly cup his ass before kneading it. Although Stiles was tentative and not yet skilled, his touch affected Derek in a way that held promise for future endeavors.

Finally, all that was left of Derek to be bathed was his aching cock, and he managed not to growl when Stiles took it in one hand and slid his slippery grasp along the full length while the other hand reached down to cup his balls. The mixture of innocence and allure was incredibly heady, and combined with the heavy scent of arousal pouring off his boy, it was nearly intoxicating.

"It's interesting, how doing this to someone else instead of yourself is exactly the same yet incredibly different," Stiles observed, panting softly but managing to sound for all the world like he was commenting on a class rather than slowly driving his Dom out of his mind. Derek grit his teeth as Stiles bit his lower lip in concentration; _he_ wanted to bite that lip. His fingertips tingled as his claws threatened to pop out, and Derek decided enough was enough. If Stiles could affect him like this already, then god help him as he gained in confidence and knowledge. Derek let Stiles work him with his hands, getting him closer to the edge until he knew he needed to stop if he was going to let Stiles blow him.

"I'm going to rinse this soap off," Derek told Stiles calmly, belying the fact that he was _this_ close to having to talk around fangs. "You've done well, so I'm going to reward you like you asked. I think I'd really like to do this in the shower, what do you think? Are your knees okay? What's your color?"

Stiles' pupils had dilated slightly as Derek talked, and he nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm cool with all that. Green, definitely green."

"Good," said Derek as he moved back into the shower spray to remove all the soap from his body. Inspiration struck him, and he gave his boy a slow smile. "And what else, Stiles? You've been so good, would you like to come?"

"Oh, _god_ ," Stiles groaned, briefly closing his eyes before looking up at Derek entreatingly. "I'm not gonna be able to hold off if you say things like that."

"Then don't," Derek said as he continued to rinse. "Touch yourself. Make yourself come. I want to watch."

" _Derek_ ," Stiles moaned, cheeks turning a darker red, but his hand was already starting to stroke along his own hardness, thumb sliding along the head before moving down then up again to repeat the movement. Derek watched closely to see how Stiles pleasured himself, mentally filing away things such as how his fist would tighten and release and how he paid particular attention to the underside and head. He stood under the shower silently, his own excitement growing as the smells of Stiles and arousal threatened to overwhelm him.

Stiles shuddered and bowed his head. "Please, Derek, I can't last any longer," he pleaded as his hand moved faster. "Can I come? Please?"

Derek hadn't known until now that making his submissive beg might become one of his favorite things, but as sweetly seductive as those words were falling from those pretty lips, this was supposed to be part of a reward for Stiles. There would be time in the future for prolonged begging and denial. "Come whenever you're ready, Stiles. I want your mouth."

With a moan, Stiles closed his eyes and moved his hand faster. With just a few jerks he was coming over his own fist, stripes of come washing away and down the drain. He knelt there, breathing hard, cheeks flushed and lips bitten red, water beaded on his body. The sight and smell was overwhelmingly intoxicating. Just when Derek thought he couldn't be more beautiful, Stiles opened his eyes to look up at him from under thick eyelashes dotted with drops of water.

"Did I do good?" Stiles asked, body still shaking with the aftershocks of orgasm.

Derek reached down to cup his cheek, rubbing his thumb along the lower lip. "You did so good, Stiles. Such a good boy," he praised, pleased when Stiles' eyes lit up with a proud smile. He stepped forward, taking his aching cock in his other hand. "Are you ready for me now?" Stiles nodded, and Derek managed to stifle his groan when his boy parted those lush lips, opening his mouth enticingly. He teasingly rubbed the head of his cock around his submissive's perfect mouth before pushing in.

Derek shuddered as Stiles immediately began moving his mouth up and down, the wet heat of his mouth so different from that of the shower they still stood in. He seemed to be trying to take Derek further than he had last night, pushing forward and then pulling back to circle around his foreskin with a tongue that was showing talent far beyond this being only the second blow job Stiles had ever given. Each bob of his head was different, his movements having no real rhythm. He would barely take the entire head of Derek's cock in his mouth one moment, then push deep enough to nearly gag himself the next. It was unpredictable and mindblowingly _good_. It took most of Derek's self control not to grab Stiles and push his cock deeper into his mouth until he could feel his boy's throat constricting around him. Stiles moaned softly, the vibrations going straight through Derek's dick and traveling until his fingertips tingled and his toes curled. A sudden feral need hit him low in his solar plexus, and he felt his wolf very close to the surface, howling at him to do what needed to be done.

With a low growl, Derek stepped back, pulling his cock out of Stiles' mouth with a sudden jerk. "It's okay," he breathlessly reassured his visibly startled submissive. "I'm sorry, I have-I just need to-just hold still, okay?" he stuttered. Stiles nodded, still looking unsure, but Derek was too close to the edge. He wrapped his fist around his cock and started jerking himself off with a practiced hand. Knowing Stiles was probably confused, he hastened to explain, "You were so good for me, felt so good, Stiles. I want to come on your face. Will you let me?"

Stiles eyes filled with understanding and a sudden eagerness that had Derek biting down on another growl. "Okay, yeah, that's-that's awesome. Do you want me to open my mouth or close my eyes or what do you want me to do?"

 _Jesus_. Derek wondered, not for the first time, how he was going to make it through this claim alive. His hand moved faster as he pushed himself towards his orgasm. "Just stay right there as you are. On your knees looking at me. I'll tell you what to do." Stiles nodded, his eyes focusing on Derek's cock before traveling up to his face. They stared at each other, eyes locked, both of them panting.

Derek felt the pressure building up in his balls and knew he was about to come. He stepped closer to Stiles and said, "Close your eyes." Stiles obeyed immediately, and Derek felt every muscle tense as he felt himself approaching the edge. With a tightening of his fist and a slight twist of his wrist, Derek finally let himself go. His cock jerked in his hand as he painted Stiles' face with his come, white stripes splashing across his cheeks and nose.

Derek stood there panting hard as though he had run for miles. The running water of the shower seemed magnified in his ears, rushing through as loudly as a fast flowing rapids. He stared at Stiles, marveling at the heady rush of primal satisfaction that came with seeing his boy marked so thoroughly. _So pretty, covered in my come like that._ Stiles blinked slowly a couple of times as though to make sure Derek was finished and that he wasn't about to have come in his eyes.

"Wow," Stiles marveled in a near whisper. "That was...intense."

Derek chuckled weakly. "You have no idea," he murmured as he used one thumb to rub a bit of his come into Stiles' skin. His wolf, satisfied with marking what belonged to him so thoroughly, rumbled its happy approval. Derek made a low growl of approval of his own when Stiles took Derek's thumb into his mouth and eagerly sucked the come off.

"You are something else," Derek said as he offered Stiles a hand to help him up off his knees. Stiles stumbled a little as he regained his footing and the pattern of the stone shower floor was marked on his skin. Derek resolved to look into getting a mat or something that would make kneeling in the shower more comfortable, because he could see this becoming a thing for them. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Just gotta get my land legs back again," Stiles joked. His face was still streaked with Derek's come, and as much as he liked the look of it, Derek wasn't about to take Stiles to see his father like that.

"Come on, let's rinse you off one last time and we need to get moving," Derek said as he pulled Stiles to him and stepped back so they were both under the spray again.

"How is this water even still hot?" asked Stiles as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rinse his face. "Is this house built over a hot spring or something? Don't tell me; you have a dragon living in the basement that does nothing but keep the water hot."

Derek smirked in amusement as he turned the water off and opened the shower door to step out. "Close," he said as he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed another for Stiles. "I have a self-indulgent uncle who wants nothing but the best luxuries and has the financial means to have them." He wrapped the towel around Stiles and dried him off tenderly but thoroughly. "Now, go get dressed. We need to get to your dad's so we have time to get you packed and moved over here. I'd like to get it done in one day if we can."

"I bet Scott would be glad to come over and help," offered Stiles brightly as he walked out of the bathroom and over to the dresser to get clean underwear and socks. "I helped him pack and move when he first got claimed, so he'd probably be willing to return the favor. Plus I think he'd like to meet you, if that's okay."

Derek thought about it for a moment. So early in their claim, his Dom instincts were already rebelling against leaving his bedroom at all, but having Stiles moved in and settled with him would actually ease that. His wolf would be satisfied with having his boy in his den, further marking Stiles as his. With all these instincts so close to the surface right now, he wasn't sure how wise it would be to have Stiles in the presence of another werewolf, even if that wolf was a submissive and obviously no threat to him. It would be difficult enough even being around another dominant, even if that dominant was Stiles' father.

"I don't know. It might be better to save that for another time," Derek said. When a look of disappointment crossed Stiles' face, Derek sighed. "Let's get over there and see if we need more than just you, me and your dad to do this," he relented. "If we need the help then we'll call Scott. If we don't, I'll call his Domme and maybe we can set up a play date or something." His heart clenched when Stiles grinned happily, like sunshine coming out from behind a cloud.

He really and truly was so screwed it was almost scary.

"That would be so awesome, Derek! I think you'll like his Domme, she's pretty and smart but also a complete badass when she has to be. Her family didn't really want her claiming Scott since he's a werewolf, but she wouldn't back down, and the rest is history," Stiles said, frowning slightly in remembrance.

A strange uneasy feeling nagged at the base of Derek's neck. Why was there a problem with her claiming a werewolf? That usually wasn't a problem, unless...

_Was she from a family of hunters?_

"I take it everything worked out for them," Derek said, hoping he sounded casual. "What's her name?" Stiles next words washed over him like icy water:

"Allison Argent."

Derek felt for the wall to support him as the room threatened to close in on him. _It couldn't be._ "I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

Stiles was wriggling into his jeans and looked up in surprise at Derek's tone. "Her name's Allison. Allison Arge-oh, _shit!_ " he cut off with an abrupt gasp, face blanching pale and horror filling his eyes as he realized what he was saying. Derek shakily crossed the room to the bed and sat down. He felt as though all the air had been punched out of him. Dimly, he was aware of Stiles falling to his knees next to him, babbling an apology. Taking a deep breath, he placed a hand on his submissive's shoulder, causing him to fall silent.

"Finish getting dressed and go downstairs," Derek said quietly. "Fix you something for breakfast. I'll be down soon, okay? Here, don't forget this," he added as he reached out and grabbed Stiles' cuff off the nightstand. Taking Stiles' hand in his own and wincing when he felt it quivering in his grasp, Derek quickly buckled the cuff in place and rubbed the soft leather with his thumb. He gave Stiles a soft kiss on the cheek and motioned towards the dresser. "Move quickly now."

Derek watched silently as Stiles finished dressing. His boy was obviously agitated and shaken up, and Derek grimly promised himself that he would reassure Stiles when he got downstairs, but there was something he had to do first. Stiles hesitantly looked back at him as he opened the door, seeming reluctant to leave him. Derek pulled on his briefs and rifled around to find old jeans and a shirt he wouldn't mind getting ruined while moving. He motioned to the open doorway with his head. "Go," he said, not unkindly. "I'll just be a few minutes."

"Do you want me to fix you something to eat as well?" asked Stiles hopefully, face falling when Derek shook his head.

"I'll be fine. Please, Stiles, don't make me tell you again," Derek said, turning his back to pull his jeans up over his hips. He winced when Stiles sighed unhappily and shut the door softly behind him. _Damn it._ This wasn't how he wanted their first morning to be. Everything had been going so well. A sharp burst of frustrated anger swelled up in his chest, threatening to bring his wolf to the surface, and with a growl he grabbed his phone off the desk. Seething, he hit Laura's number and tapped his fingers agitatedly on the desk waiting for her to answer.

 _"Derek? What's wrong?"_ Laura answered, sounding concerned.

"When the hell were you going to tell me?" Derek snarled without preamble.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Greetings and salutations!**
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> **Long time, no see, right? How I have missed this story and missed all of _you_. It's so good to be back. Life was super crazy for a while: since I last updated I have moved (packing and unpacking, ugh just kill me), lost my grandmother after a long illness, and dealt with some health issues. Yikes and away.**
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> **I want to first of all thank each person who took time to review, leave me a word of encouragement, or just let me know they were excited for this story and looking forward to it being updated, either here or on my tumblr. While it has taken far too long, I have finally managed to put together something that I am pleased with. There aren't enough words to say how sorry I am that this took so long. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter.**
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> **Love and sloppy kisses to[Beth](http://foreverblue-navy.tumblr.com) for the gorgeous graphic, as well as doing me the honor of beta-ing this chapter! Any mistakes are my own, as I can't leave things alone and have to mess with it more...**

  


* * *

Laura paused for a moment before cautiously asking, "When was I going to tell you what?"

"Oh, come on, Laura," Derek scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me. Why didn't you or Peter tell me there was an Argent in the academy that, oh by the way, happens to be the dominant of my submissive's best friend? When did they come back?"

 _"Damn it,"_ he heard Laura swear under her breath. "It just seemed better not to tell you just yet, Derek. We were going to tell you when we got back, though, I swear. You seemed so pleased to be back and were doing so well–"

"Of course I was!" snarled Derek in exasperation. "That's because I didn't know the family that ruined my life was lurking around just waiting for me to let my guard down so they can finish what they started!"

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" Laura asked, sounding shocked. She angrily continued before Derek could answer, "Chris has publicly decried Kate and distanced himself from Gerard. Allison is a sweet and lovely girl, a good student and a good Domme. Chris and Victoria were reluctant for her to claim a werewolf, given the family's past history. They were worried about public perception, and rightfully so. Because they were worried about how Allison might be viewed, claiming a werewolf when her aunt was serving time for murdering the Alpha's family, they tried to dissuade her; but she was determined to have Scott, and they are very happily claimed. Peter and Chris spent a lot of time discussing the claim, if it would be a detriment or benefit. They decided _together_ that letting Allison and Scott get claimed would go a long way to showing that not all hunters are like Kate, the Argents in particular."

Derek rolled his eyes and laughed harshly. "So big of them, deigning to take a wolf in their home. I'm sure they sleep just fine at night with a perfectly clear conscience, not a worry in the world, while our family was trapped and burned to death by one of them! Should I watch my back now? How am I supposed to let Stiles anywhere near them when I have absolutely no desire to be in the presence of murderers?"

"Derek," Laura said softly, "You have to understand, Allison isn't Kate. Chris nearly didn't enroll her in the academy to begin with, but Peter talked him into it. Trying to mend bridges and show solidarity."

"Oh, of course," Derek snorted in derision. "After all, he _is_ THE Alpha now. Gotta look good for the public. It's all politics where he's concerned."

"That's unfair and you know it," argued Laura. "As the Alpha he _has_ to look at the big picture and consider all sides for the better benefit of all. He _can't_ let personal feelings interfere. He hasn't forgotten any of what happened. Mom was his sister. He and Aunt Emmy were mate bonded, and she was pregnant. If you think for even one minute that he doesn't live with that loss everyday, you are wrong."

Derek rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I know that," he said. "I just wish you had said something to me first. I should have been informed."

"I see that now," answered Laura apologetically. "I guess maybe in our defense, we wanted to protect you as long as we could. Be honest, would you have come back from New York if you'd known?" When Derek didn't answer, his silence telling, she sighed sadly. "I didn't think so. Please believe me, though, when I tell you we did what we thought was best. For all of us." She sighed again. "It would've been nice for you to get to enjoy your new claim for at least a little while before getting news of that nature. How did you find out, anyway?"

"Stiles let it slip," Derek said wryly. "We were getting ready to go to his Dad's house to pack his things to move, and he offered his friend's services. I was a bit leery of having him around another wolf right now, even a submissive one, so I mentioned a play date instead." He huffed out a deep breath. "He looked so horrified when he realized what he'd said."

Laura made a soft noise of sympathy. "Oh, the poor thing. I wasn't sure if he knew or even remembered, he would have been so young when it happened. It was kept pretty hush hush at the school so as to protect Allison, but I'm sure anyone who wanted to know could find out, and Stiles is definitely a curious one. He must be absolutely heartbroken right now, thinking he's upset or disappointed you, and then hearing you yelling at me. I hope you didn't punish him."

"Of course I didn't punish him; he hasn't done anything wrong. I sent him downstairs to breakfast before I called. There was no need for him to hear all this," Derek answered, rubbing absently at his chest. It had been aching slightly since he called Laura. He attributed it to his hurt anger.

"You did what?" Laura asked sharply.

Derek sat up straighter at her tone. "I sent him downstairs. He was already discomfited enough without listening to me yell at you. What's wrong, Lola? What aren't you telling me?"

"Derek, you have to get to him! Stiles has panic attacks, he could be in trouble right now," Laura said, her voice bordering on frantic. "I thought he was there with you, but if he's alone and upset he could very easily have an episode. He'll need your help."

 _"Shit,"_ swore Derek as he leapt to his feet. "This isn't over, Laura. You, Peter and I will be having a long talk when you get home tomorrow, but my submissive needs me right now. I'll talk to you later." He hung up without waiting for her to answer and hurried for the door. Because of the special arrangement of their claim, Derek hadn't had the time to study Stiles' file to learn about medical history or needs. While Maks had said Stiles took medication for ADD, panic attacks hadn't been mentioned. Derek resolved to spend some time with Maks getting all the pertinent information he needed to know and putting it on file in his phone for future reference. He had dealt with anxiety in a submissive before, but this was far different, and he felt the cold edge of fear as he rushed down the stairs in search of his boy.

* * *

Stiles stumbled slightly as he entered the kitchen. Making his way to the table, he quickly sat down. His knees felt like jelly, and it had nothing to do with the time he had recently spent on them. He couldn't believe he'd been so careless, so _stupid._ Of _all_ things to do, to blithely suggest Derek meet with one of the Argents, even if Allison and her parents hadn't been involved in the tragedy. From the stunned look on Derek's face, he hadn't known Chris and Victoria had returned to Beacon Hills.

Though it was common knowledge that the Hales had been victims of a murderous hunter, most of the students that had lived in Beacon Hills at the time had been young enough to have forgotten the connection between the Hale and Argent families. Peter was a powerful Alpha, and out of respect and deference to him, any gossip was kept quiet and behind closed doors. Never one to let idle curiosity get the better of him, though, Stiles had gone to the library after seeing Derek for the first time at school. Hearing Lydia's story of the Hale family tragedy had struck a chord in him even before he knew he would actually be connected to the family. Who _wouldn't_ be swayed by local scandal? Especially when presented with a Byronic hero such as Derek Hale. Mysterious, brooding, tortured by his past, and gifted with sensual good looks that had led to downfall. Seriously, Stiles defied any of the authors he'd studied in lit class to write any better. Eat your heart out, Mr. Rochester.

Explaining his presence as a need to research for an upcoming paper to the wary librarian, who obviously hadn't forgotten the circumcision essay debacle, Stiles sequestered himself at one of the work areas towards the back where he wasn't likely to be disturbed. Even though the police files would have been even better, he had figured he would be able to sneak in his dad's file room at another time and read them. Google, however, was his friend, and he went to work. It didn't take long for him to strike pay dirt. The fire had been a huge media storm, even making the national level.

**_Massive Fire Rips Through Hale Home_ **

**_Prominent Werewolf Family Struck By Tragedy As Four Alarm Blaze Kills 8_ **

**_Respected Alpha Talia Hale Among Victims Of Deadly Disaster_ **

**_Grim Discovery: Werewolf Family Escape Would Have Been Impossible_ **

**_"No Accident." Investigators Say Hale Fire Was Deliberate, Mountain Ash Barrier Kept Family Trapped. Incident Now Classified As Hate Crime._ **

**_California Governor Condemns "Senseless Act Of Violence," Offers Support To New Alpha Peter Hale_ **

**_Investigation Turns To Hunter Clan As Evidence Mounts_ **

**_Teenage Submissive Arrested As Accessory To Hale Blaze, Turns State's Evidence_ **

**_Extremist Hunter Faction Protests Argent Trial, Claims Solidarity With Rogue Huntress_ **

There had been so many more that Stiles hadn't had time to read them all. But one article in particular had caught his attention.

**_Deception, Seduction, and Manipulation: How One Hunter Went Too Far_ **

_Dominant Katherine Anne Argent, 25, was arrested Saturday after a week long manhunt that spanned three states. She was wanted as the main person of interest in connection to the massive fire that killed 8 members of the Hale family, including Domme Talia Hale, who was Alpha of the Hale pack and its territory._

_Beacon Hills has been part of Hale pack territory for decades, and the werewolf clan has always helped maintain the peace while guarding the town's inhabitants. When the mansion they called home went up in flames, it seemed a horrible tragedy. But daylight brought the grim discovery that not only had the fire been deliberately set but the doors and windows had been lined with mountain ash and wolfsbane powder to prohibit escape. What began as a devastating catastrophe quickly became a crime scene for arson, entrapment and murder._

_Authorities were initially baffled as to who could have had such an agenda against the Hale pack. They were incredibly well liked and respected in the community and the idea that someone could have done something so unspeakable was mind boggling. Interviews with surviving pack members proved illuminating, and the search for Kate Argent began in earnest._

_Domme Argent had been a substitute teacher at the Hale Academy and had begun a clandestine affair with the Alpha's underage son. She disguised herself as an unclaimed submissive, coloring over her tattoo to make it appear black instead of red. Under this pretense, she had been able to befriend the boy, manipulating him into thinking she was endangered by her father, known extremist Gerard Argent. Convincing the young Hale that she wanted him as her Dom, she seduced him with promises of agreeing to a claim once he was tattooed. Once she had earned the boy's trust, she began plying him for information about the pack under guise of getting to know more about her future "family."_

_It turned out that, like her father, Domme Argent had extremist views that involved killing all werewolves, not just those gone feral or rogue. In violation of the universal code upheld by hunters worldwide, she devised her plan to bring about the demise of the Hale pack. Revealing herself as a dominant undercover to an unclaimed submissive that had a troubled history, Domme Argent was able to convince the teenager to help her carry out her murderous plan in exchange for claiming him once they rid the area of wolves._

_Law enforcement officials were able to get the submissive to turn state's evidence in their case against Domme Argent. Her murder of a prominent werewolf pack combined with illegal relationships with two underage and unclaimed boys further scandalized the nation, and prosecutors are confident that, in face of all the evidence against her, they will get a conviction._

Stiles remembered reading that Kate Argent had been found guilty and sentenced to life in prison. When Allison had first come to school, her parents had met previously with the headmaster several times, and it had been hinted by the teachers whatever family secret they were protecting was best left alone. A few rumors had gone around, typical high school, but then Jackson–ever the drama queen–went through his kanima phase and everyone lost interest in the pretty but quiet Domme and had been swept up in the drama of having a homicidal lizard running amok in Beacon Hills.

Stiles had always been able to put two and two together. Obviously Allison's aunt had been the crazy woman Lydia had said was responsible for killing the Hale family, which meant she had been the older woman who had done the unspeakable and manipulated an underage Derek into an illicit affair. No wonder he looked so angry at the world. No doubt he probably blamed himself for what happened. Stiles knew he would, if the shoe were on the other foot. And now he had just blithely suggested Derek get to know the niece of the person responsible for fucking his life up, like it was no big deal. Stiles groaned and banged his head on the table a few times. _Way to go, dumbass._ He couldn't have messed things up more if he had tried.

The sort of trauma inflicted on the Hale family by the Argents wasn't easily forgiven and would never be forgotten, Stiles understood that. He had lost his mother at an early age and that loss still hurt even today, so for Derek, having lost almost his entire pack, it had to be devastating. It was hard to reconcile kind and loving Allison, who was always so straightforward and honest, with being the same blood as someone who was willing to go to such terrible lengths to destroy. Stiles knew Allison loved Scott, it was obvious in everything she did, whether she was praising him for good behavior or punishing him for bad. Her parents seemed a bit leery of their relationship at times and Stiles knew they had been against Allison claiming Scott to begin with, but he was treated well by them and they didn't interfere with Allison's care of Scott.

Stiles sighed unhappily. He wondered if Derek was going to punish him. Wow. Claimed less than 24 hours and already in trouble. That had to be some sort of record or something. Lead Stiles not unto temptation, he could find it himself far too easily. Derek had told him to eat, but Stiles found he didn't have much of an appetite now. He ran a hand through his hair as he stood up and went to look in the cabinets to see if Peter kept something as plebeian as pop tarts in his house. That way he could still follow Derek's instructions without making himself sick trying to eat something more substantial. His search was semi successful. There was a box of strawberry pop tarts towards the back of one cabinet, but they were the unfrosted kind. Stiles wrinkled his nose, then shrugged. At least they weren't those weird fiber ones he'd bought once for his dad. _Once._ Maybe he could put in a special grocery request with Libby, if it was okay with Derek. He sat back down and opened the packet of pastries. After taking one bite and choking it down, he got up to fix himself a glass of milk. He was going to need it.

Once he sat back down, Stiles went on to methodically nibbling on his breakfast. He wondered what Derek was doing and what was taking so long. His chest felt achy and he felt slightly abuzz with nervous energy. There was a sense of unhappiness he couldn't quite shake. He had upset his Dominant, even if it had been unintentional. It grated on him, made him feel even more fidgety than usual.

Just when Stiles was going to toss caution to the wind and risk Derek's ire by going back to their room in search of him, his Dom strode into the kitchen. He scanned the kitchen quickly, looking almost anxious and then relieved to see Stiles sitting at the table, empty glass and crumbs testimony to his obedience. Stiles quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and without another thought slid off the chair to fall to his knees on the cold tile floor. He placed his hands palm down on his knees and kept his gaze to the floor, waiting for Derek to acknowledge him so he could apologize. It didn't take long; Derek placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder almost immediately.

"What are you doing? Are you okay?" Derek asked, and Stiles felt relieved that he didn't sound angry at all. He sounded confused, though, which surprised Stiles into looking up before dropping his gaze again. He took a deep breath.

"I wanted to apologize, sir. I spoke without thinking and upset you. I wasn't thinking about what I was saying and I'm sorry," Stiles said. He fought against the urge to fidget nervously.

Derek was quiet for a moment. "I see," he finally said, just as Stiles was beginning to get anxious. "I take it you know some of what happened?" he asked, tone neutral.

Stiles hesitated, then nodded. "A little. I went to the library after you came to our table the other day and looked you up online," he confessed. "I was curious about you, but I probably shouldn't have done it. It was a violation of your privacy and I'm really sorry. If you have to punish me I understand."

"Punish you?" Derek asked, sounding surprised. "Stiles, you haven't done anything wrong. My reaction had nothing to do with your suggestion of having your friend and his Domme over, okay? I didn't know that there were Argents in Beacon Hills again; Peter and Laura didn't tell me," he said, bitterness lacing his words. "None of this is your fault, though. I'm sorry if I made you feel that it was. I handled it badly and I owe _you_ an apology, not the other way around."

Stiles looked at the floor again. "I should have known better, though. I mean, why would you want to meet anyone who was related to...to _that_ person? I know I wouldn't. It was a dumb idea."

Derek tugged lightly at Stiles' shoulder, urging him to his feet. "You listen to me," he said firmly, "You had no way of knowing that I didn't know or how I would react. Yes, I was upset, but not because of you. Don't think that. I _would_ like to meet your friend and his Dominant one day, okay? I don't think today is a good day, though, and it isn't because she's an Argent, but because he's a werewolf. Right now my instincts are at a high and I could see him as a challenge for you, even though he isn't. I told you we would arrange a play date and we will. Right now, though, my priority is getting you moved in here with me. Once things get settled down, I'll call her myself."

Stiles gave his Dom a hesitant smile. "You will? Because that would be really awesome. And I really am sorry, I shouldn't—" His words cut off as Derek placed a finger against his lips.

"Shhhhhh, no more. It's water under the bridge and we won't talk about it any more. Okay?" Derek asked. He waited for Stiles to nod before taking his finger away. "Good boy," he said, smiling as the praise made Stiles smile bigger in return. Derek's smile turned mischievous. "What we _can_ talk about is you looking me up," he teased.

Stiles felt his face heating up. "What? I was curious about you." When Derek smirked at him with one brown raised, he threw up his hands. "I was! The fact that you're hot didn't have anything to do with it. Much. Okay, maybe a little," he relented. When Derek didn't say anything, but continued to give him that look, Stiles finally huffed, "Fine! I confess I wanted to know more about the Headmaster's hot nephew, alright? But it wasn't _just_ because of your looks."

Derek sighed dramatically. "And here I was hoping." When Stiles sputtered in response, Derek looked pleased with himself. He glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "We're late, we need to get going. I want this done and over with as quickly as possible. If nothing else, I at least want your things here. We can unpack and get things settled at our leisure; we can even wait until the house staff is back to let them take care of it, if need be." He picked up the keys to the Toyota and held out a hand to Stiles.

Stiles took Derek's hand and let himself be led to the SUV. Even if things appeared to be normal and Derek seemed fine now, he was still upset with himself. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt souring his stomach. Maybe moving his belongings would help get his mind off things.

* * *

Maksym Stilinski taped a box of books closed. He had gotten up early and begun packing up Stiles' things so that it would expedite the move. Stiles and Derek hadn't shown up yet, and Maks didn't want to speculate on what might have possibly delayed them. At some point when he wasn't looking, his son had grown up. Now Stiles was moving out, involved in his first claim, and his sex life wasn't something Maks really wanted to dwell on. He couldn't deny, though, that the house seemed too quiet and rather lonely without him. Eating a meat lover's pizza the night before just hadn't been as fulfilling as he'd thought it would be. He'd never thought he would miss Stiles' lectures about his eating habits. Maybe he was just getting old.

Maks carried the box over and added it to the stack he'd made. The room was nearly completely packed up. He'd already emptied the dressers and closet. The furniture would be staying behind, as Stiles didn't currently need it. Maks had been sure to pack some of Stiles' favorite pictures, as well as his old teddy bear that Angie had bought him for his second birthday. He was sure Derek would do what he could to make Stiles feel at home in the Hale household, but a few reminders of home couldn't hurt.

He had just put together another box when he heard a car pull up in the driveway. Maks stood quickly and hurried downstairs, eager to see his son. Throwing open the door, he stepped out on the porch with a wide smile. His smile faded, however, when he saw Stiles get out of the vehicle. He looked unhappy, as though there was something was wrong. All of Maks' protective paternal instincts flared to life and he rushed down the steps to meet Stiles half way. He put a hand on Stiles' shoulder and tipped his chin up with the other.

"What's wrong?" Maks asked, frowning in concern. His frown got deeper when Stiles hesitated, looking to Derek first as his dominant came up behind him. " _Stiles_ ," Maks said sharply. He hadn't realized that he'd let dominance bleed into his tone until Stiles jerked and visibly shivered, and Derek stiffened and growled softly, eyes flashing blue in warning.

Damn. The last thing he wanted to do was to confuse Stiles by making him feel trapped between two dominants, especially between his father and his new Dom. Raising the ire of a werewolf dominant in a new claim wasn't the best idea, either. Gentling his tone, he tried again. "I'm sorry, Stiles. I didn't mean to use that tone with you. But I know you. I can tell something's wrong. Talk to me, son."

For a moment, Maks thought Stiles wasn't going to answer him. His frustration grew when Stiles averted his eyes and said, "Nothing, Dad. Everything's fine. Just ready to get the move over with, I guess." He looked back and gave him what was supposed to look like a carefree grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. Maks frowned. He knew when Stiles wasn't being honest with him and it was an effort not to put him in the nearest corner until he could be truthful. He narrowed his gaze on Derek Hale, who stared back at him with an inscrutable look. Something wasn't right and Maks was going to get to the bottom of it.

"I've started packing your things already, Stiles, but there's still a little ways to go before it's all done. Why don't you go work in your room?" Maks said, careful not to make it sound like an order. He then turned to Derek. "Dom Hale, I would be delighted for you to join me in the kitchen. I put coffee on just a bit ago and there is plenty. We can talk a bit before joining Stiles," he stated, his tone indicating that he was not making a suggestion and brooking no refusal from either young man.

Stiles didn't move and his face betrayed his conflict. He looked as though he wanted to obey, but something held him back. Maks bit back the urge to just make it an order, knowing that would make everything worse. He watched in silence as Derek stepped over to Stiles and put a hand on one cheek, murmuring something softly in his ear. Stiles noticeably relaxed and nodded, looking pleased when Derek raised Stiles' cuffed arm to his mouth to kiss the leather strap adorning his wrist. With another quick, reluctant glance between Maks and Derek, Stiles hurried up the stairs.

Maks turned and walked into the kitchen, knowing Derek would follow him. He silently pulled two coffee mugs down from the cabinet and filled them. "There's sugar and Splenda on the sideboard, if you like. Milk or creamer?" he asked as he opened the refrigerator to take out the vanilla flavored creamer he indulged himself with.

"What you have is fine," answered Derek, his tone neutral.

Maks nodded and poured a small amount into his mug before handing the container to Derek. The clink of spoons against porcelain was the only sound in the room as both men prepared their coffee. They didn't look at each other as they sipped at the hot beverage. The silence stretched out for several moments and finally Maks had enough. He sat his mug on the counter with a thump and crossed his arms in his best interrogation pose.

"What's wrong with my son?" Maks demanded.

Derek raised an unperturbed brow and took another sip of his coffee. "There's nothing wrong with my submissive," he answered flatly.

"Oh, come on, Hale," scoffed Maks. "Don't give me that. I know when something's wrong. You may be his dominant, but I'm his father. You've been a claim for two days and already my son looks jumpy and unhappy. I know when he's upset about something, and so help me, if you've abused him I'll see to it that you never—"

Derek slammed his mug down with a loud thud. "Is that what you think? You think I've done something to Stiles to hurt him or break his trust? You honestly think I'm capable of that?" he snapped angrily, eyes flashing blue. "Have you forgotten, _Sheriff_ , that I know what it's like to be mistreated and have your trust broken?"

Maks stood his ground. "I haven't accused you of anything yet, _Dom Hale_ , all I've done is say that _something is wrong with my boy and if you are the reason—"_

" _Dad!_ " exclaimed Stiles from the doorway, drawing the startled attention of both dominants. They had been so focused on their argument that neither had noticed him coming back downstairs. "Stop it! Derek didn't do anything, it was my fault!" He strode into the kitchen to stand between them, panting slightly and looking between them with obvious distress. "I can't _stand_ this. It makes my head hurt for you to argue with each other!"

"Stiles, you have to calm down, you're going to have a panic attack," exclaimed Maks in alarm. He watched as Derek quickly put his hands on Stiles' shoulders and drew him close. The tension literally melted out of Stiles and he closed his eyes as he lay his head on Derek's shoulder. Derek stroked a hand up and down Stiles' back in a soothing manner while whispering in his ear. After a few moments Stiles nodded and Derek made an approving noise. When Stiles raised his head, Derek dropped a quick kiss on his mouth.

"You're my good boy, Stiles. Now do what you were told and go finish packing. Your dad and I will be along soon to help. I promise," Derek said. Stiles looked at Maks, a plea in his eyes, before turning back to Derek and nodding, then going back upstairs.

Maks and Derek stared at each other for a moment. Derek broke the heavy silence first.

"The Argents are back in town," he said quietly. "I didn't know. Peter and Laura kept it from me, and while I don't agree with their reasoning, I guess to a degree I understand them. I only found out when Stiles asked about having his friend Scott come over to help with packing and moving. He let it out that Scott's Domme is Kate Argent's niece and I reacted poorly. I've tried to make him understand he didn't do anything wrong, but he thinks he has. He thinks I'm angry over being asked to associate with an Argent, when I'm actually angry I didn't know such a possibility still actually existed."

"Ah, hell," swore Maks, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily. Looking Derek in the eye, he said, "I thought you needed to be told. I even said as much to the Alpha. I didn't think to warn Stiles against saying anything about Allison until it was a sure thing you'd been informed about their return." He took a deep breath and heaved it back out again. "When I'm wrong, I say I'm wrong. I owe you an apology, for both my inactions and my actions. I should have spoken to Stiles about Allison, and I didn't. And I shouldn't have reacted the way I did or said the things I said when you got here. Understand, though, I will always do everything to protect my son."

Derek nodded his head once in acknowledgement. "I appreciate what you're saying. Right now I just want it in the past and to move forward. I signed a contract and swore before both the Alpha and the Magistrate that I would take care of Stiles and protect him, and I intend to do just that." He picked up his coffee cup and took a swallow of the cooling liquid. "Let's not argue, Sheriff. We both want the same thing; what's best for Stiles."

"Agreed," said Maks as he drained his own mug. "We should get upstairs before Stiles worries himself into a frenzy." He waited while Derek finished off his own coffee. "Something you'll need to know; Stiles tends to blame himself for things that aren't his fault. It gets in his head, and it'll be up to you to get him out of that place when it happens." When Derek nodded in understanding, Maks held out his hand. Derek took it and they firmly shook hands, both relieved to have come to an understanding.

"Before we leave today, I need to make sure I get some medical history from you about Stiles, copies of medical records or at least something letting me know about him so I am aware," Derek said as they put their mugs in the sink. Maks walked to the dining room table and picked up a manila envelope marked "DOM DEREK HALE."

"I have everything here," Maks said. "I actually meant to give it to you yesterday, but since I was delayed for the ceremony I didn't want to be even later by coming home first. There's copies of his records as well as all his legal documents; birth certificate, immunizations, blood results, that sort of thing. His passport's in there as well, just in case. If I've missed anything, just let me know."

Derek nodded. "I appreciate it," he said, placing the envelope on the table by the door and putting his keys on top of it. The two dominants headed up the stairs, each wanting to check on the young submissive they knew was probably pacing anxiously, wondering what was going on.

* * *

Later that night, Derek and Stiles were working together in their room. With the Sheriff's help, packing Stiles' things into the SUV had gone quickly, and they were able to move everything in just a couple of trips. It hadn't taken them long to get the boxes unloaded, and they were unpacking and organizing. Derek was putting Stiles' clothes away in the closet and dresser, keeping a close watch on Stiles. His submissive was being unusually quiet, and Derek wasn't sure if it was a lingering reaction to the earlier conflict between himself and Maks, or if it was because Stiles was still upset over what happened with the accidental Argent reveal. Stiles kept his head down and kept kneeling for long moments next to boxes before cutting the tape to open them, deliberately getting into submissive posture. Derek knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out just what. His wolf whined anxiously, unhappy that there was obviously something wrong with his boy. Derek wanted to wait for Stiles to say something to him; he didn't want to have to make it a command for Stiles to do so, but he didn't know exactly what to do to get his submissive to open up.

Finally, when Stiles angrily cut the tape on a box and nicked his finger in the process, causing him to grunt in pain before sticking his finger in his mouth to suck off the welling blood, Derek had enough.

"Come here, Stiles," Derek ordered softly. Stiles stood and crossed the room to stand in front of Derek. His eyes were downcast, his lips trembling slightly. Derek took his hand, looked carefully at the cut on his finger, and gently maneuvered Stiles to the bathroom so he could clean and bandage the cut. Stiles remained silent as he was tended to. When he was finished, Derek led Stiles back to the bedroom and placed a kneeling cushion he'd brought along from the Stilinski house on the floor.

"Kneel for me," Derek said. When Stiles obeyed, quickly and without comment, Derek sighed to himself quietly. He tilted Stiles' chin up. "Look at me, that's a good boy. Now, tell me what's wrong. And don't tell me nothing, you've obviously been unhappy all day and I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's going on in that head of yours. I need you to be truthful."

Stiles was stubbornly silent for a moment, and just when Derek thought he was going to have to take action and put him in the corner, he blurted out, "I need to be punished."

Well. That wasn't quite what Derek expected. He had to tread carefully here. It was important that Stiles' needs be top priority, but Derek still didn't believe Stiles had done anything wrong. He remembered what Maks had told him earlier, about Stiles blaming himself for things, and knew what he needed to do.

"I see," Derek said, still gently holding Stiles' chin up. "And what would I be punishing you for?"

Stiles fidgeted on his knees and cast his eyes to the side. "I upset you. By telling you about the Argents."

Derek ran a thumb over Stiles' quivering lower lip. "I was upset, that's true. But it wasn't you I was upset with, Stiles. I would have found out eventually. I am more unhappy that Peter and Laura _didn't_ tell me." Stiles was quiet but didn't look fully convinced.

Derek cleared his throat. He had to tread carefully here. "I _am_ a bit upset with you now, though." Stiles' breath hitched and his eyes widened. "Do you know why?" Derek asked.

Stiles hesitated as he thought, then said, "Because I didn't tell you why I was upset?"

Derek nodded. "I need you to be open and honest with me about your feelings and your needs, Stiles. I need you to trust me to take care of you. Have you done that?"

Stiles imperceptibly shook his head and said, so quietly that Derek might not have heard him were he not a werewolf, "No, Sir."

Derek made a noise of agreement. "And because you didn't talk to me about being upset and why, you hurt yourself. You're lucky it was just a small cut; it could have been worse. You might have needed stitches, or something even more serious. _That_ would have really upset me. Do you understand, pretty boy?"

Stiles shivered, his eyes closing at the endearment. "Yes, Sir," he whispered.

Derek made up his mind. It was obvious to him that Stiles was convinced he needed punishment, and he would not get out of that mindset until Derek did something about it. While corner time would be enough for Derek, he instinctively knew that Stiles needed more than that from him. He opened up his trunk and took out a pair of sleek black leather gloves. They would lessen the sting of a spanking, which suited Derek perfectly for this mild punishment. This way he could compromise with giving Stiles what he needed while being able to keep the punishment at the level he felt was appropriate.

"Here's what we're going to do," Derek instructed. "I want you to take your clothes off. Put them in the hamper, don't just toss them on the floor. I'm going to sit on the bed, and when you're undressed I want you to lay across my lap. I'm going to spank you, ten strokes and you're going to count each one out loud for me. I'm using gloves because this is a punishment. My hands will always only touch you for care and pleasure. Do you understand?"

Stiles nodded. "Yes, Sir," he answered as he shakily stumbled to his feet. Derek walked to the bed and sat down, pulling on the gloves and watching alertly for any signs of distress in his submissive. Stiles quietly pulled off his shirts and jeans, standing for a moment in just his boxers and socks.

"Color?" asked Derek, just to be sure. He could always have Stiles write sentences or do pushups instead of being spanked, but his instincts were telling him that this was what Stiles needed.

Stiles straightened his shoulders. "Green," he answered clearly, removing his remaining clothing. He trod silently to Derek and stretched out across his lap. Derek widened his stance to provide better support. He ran his appreciative gaze over the gorgeous curve of ass, the strong back and thighs on display. Pale, perfect and vulnerable. His wolf purred at the thought of marking his submissive, warming that round bottom to a rosy glow.

"Count out loud. Just numbers, Stiles, don't say anything else," Derek said. When Stiles nodded, Derek brought his gloved hand down on his right cheek in a hard smack.

Stiles tensed slightly, then breathed out heavily. "One," he said calmly.

"Good boy," praised Derek. He brought his hand down on the left cheek.

"Two," counted Stiles, voice still measured.

"So good for me," Derek said, pleased to see some of the tension leaving Stiles. He brought his hand down a third time.

"Th-three" stuttered Stiles. Derek brought his hand down again, making sure to wait for Stiles to count out loud before proceeding with the next stroke and making sure to praise him each time. The tension seemed to drain out of Stiles with each count and stroke, and by the time they reached nine, his ass was glowing a rosy pink and he was hard against Derek's leg. Derek's hand came down a final time and Stiles shakily breathed out ten. He was pliant and warm, and Derek murmured words of approval as he stripped off the gloves, tossing them to the side as he carefully maneuvered Stiles over to sit in his lap, making sure not to put any pressure on his bottom.

"Such a good boy," Derek praised, running a hand through Stiles' slightly damp with sweat hair. Stiles was quiet, breathing a bit heavily, his erection hard against his thigh. Derek reached for the bottle of lube on the night stand and squeezed a small amount into his hand. He took Stiles' cock in his hand and began slowly stroking it. "Would you like to come?" he asked.

Stiles moaned and shuddered in his arms. "Please, Sir, please let me come. I want to come."

Derek pressed a kiss to his temple and kept stroking. "You can come, pretty boy. This is all for you. Come whenever you're ready." He held Stiles close, urging him on towards orgasm with his hand. When Stiles finally came, he tensed for a moment before moaning loudly. His body jerked as he spilled hot over Derek's fist. His eyes fluttered shut and he panted softly. Derek smiled to himself, struck anew by the beauty of the boy he held. He moved so that he could lay Stiles against the pillows, arranging him on his side so his bottom didn't touch anything. It took just a moment to clean the come off his hand and Stiles' stomach; though the urge to lick them both clean was strong, Derek settled for using wet wipes. He reached into the aftercare kit Laura had left him and pulled out a tube of lotion. He carefully rubbed some onto the still warm skin, continuing to whisper praise and endearments to his boy as he did.

When he was finished, Derek got up and quickly put his gloves back in the trunk and put away the lube and lotion. He stripped down to his briefs and climbed on the bed to lay down next to Stiles, taking him into his arms and carefully pulling a blanket over them, smiling when Stiles snuggled against him. Derek rubbed his hands soothingly up and down Stiles' back, pressing the occasional light kiss on his lips and cheeks. Watching Stiles drift in subspace could far too easily become one of his favorite things.

After a short time, Derek felt, rather than saw Stiles returning to himself. His boy stirred in his arms, then stretched, hissing when his movements brought his attention to his sore ass. Sleepy eyes blinked at him, followed by a slow smile.

"Hi," whispered Stiles, raising his arms to wrap them around Derek's neck.

"Hi yourself," replied Derek, tightening his hold on Stiles. "Welcome back. How do you feel?"

"Mmmmmm, better," Stiles said, stretching again and wincing before reaching back to rub his ass. "Make that better but a little sore," he admitted, laughing ruefully.

"Do you need me to put more lotion on you?" asked Derek in concern. "Would you prefer aloe with lidocaine? I'm pretty sure we have some." He started to roll away to look when Stiles stopped him.

"I'm fine," Stiles reassured Derek. "My head feels clear, my butt's blissfully sore and I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be right now than right here in the arms of my awesome Dom. Please don't leave me."

"I'm pretty sure I've told you you are a menace," Derek huffed softly as he tucked the blankets around them and settled back down, holding Stiles close. "Sleep now. I promise I'll be right here. Don't worry about doing anymore unpacking tonight. Rest is what you need right now, we can worry about everything else tomorrow." Derek rubbed his nose against Stiles' before pressing a soft kiss against his lips. He lay still as Stiles cuddled up to him, watching as he drifted off. Once he was sure Stiles was asleep, Derek closed his own eyes, allowing himself to relax into sleep as well. His wolf rumbled low, peaceful and content as he held his boy close.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come play with me on my [Tumblr](http://ittlebitz.tumblr.com)!


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